Web of Gold and Posion
by BlueWolfStoryTeller
Summary: Set Series 2 post episode 4 pre episode 5. Silas Duggan is found murdered besides three policemen. As the trio hunt for the person responsible they are drawn into a world of business and corruption. With three dead policemen they are under the gaze of Commissioner Monro. At the same time Long Susan is forced to reveal a secret that will change her life.
1. An earlly morning call

A web of Gold and Poison

Set during Series 2 post episode 4: Dynamite and Women and before episode 5: Threads of Silk and Gold.

C1: An early morning call

It had been over two months since Susan had been kidnapped by Rain, the wounds had healed and anger transformed to understanding. What had looked like it would destroy Susan and Homer's relationship had strengthened it.

A full month had passed since two of Silas Duggan's men (a heavy named The Barber and an accountant named Walter Halfpenny) had been killed in suspicious circumstances at a circus. The chief suspected was a man of Indian origin named Vritra. Vritra had worked at the circus along with his brother Singh. Singh had died at the same time as Duggan's men. Their sister Indira was Duggan's mistress.

The police believed an argument had broken out between Singh, Vritra and Duggan's men over Indira. Duggan's men had killed Singh then had themselves been murdered by Vritra. Vritra had vanished resulting in the case remaining open. When questioned on the matter, Silas Duggan had denied knowledge as to why Vritra would kill his men. Indira herself had claimed not to have seen her brother in over a year. The case had brought Duggan's web to Inspector Reid's attention, making Reid aware of Susan's situation and awakening in him a determination to catch Duggan.

On a dark, freezing January morning, Susan and Homer were curled up in one another's arms, the bedclothes pulled tightly around them. Suddenly there was a loud hammering on their bedroom door shattering the morning's peace.

"JACKSON UP! WE'VE GOT MURDER!" The voice of Sergeant Bennet Drake thundered through the darkness.

Waking with a start the pair stumbled bleary eyed from their bed. Susan's hair was a tangle and her silky pink nightdress left little to the imagination. Homer was clad only in a pair of stripy pyjama bottoms. Pushing open the bedroom door they saw Sergeant Drake holding a spare door key and a lantern.

"Dressed Jackson. The Inspector wants you double quick," Drake said, obverting his gaze.

At the same time as a clock in the hall below chimed five times. The house paused a moment, as if expecting the other occupants to wake. The faint creak of flooring gave a hint that the girls were awake yet doors remained shut.

"Drake hold it. It's five in the God damn morning. What's so important it couldn't wait till a sensible hour?" Jackson said, shielding his eyes from the light.

"Murder. Silas Duggan," Drake said brusquely.

"Hell Fire! Give me three minutes to get dressed," Jackson replied.

Shutting the door in Drake's face, Susan and Homer looked at one another in utter shock. Susan had gone chalk white and was trembling. In a swift motion Jackson threw a blanket around her and hugged her tightly. For a moment neither spoke as the enormity of the news sunk in.

"Caitlin don't worry, I won't let anything happen to you," Matthew whispered.

"I'm scared Matthew. Duggan was a devil but he was one I knew. His death could mean someone ever worse," Caitlin whispered.

"If you don't like who takes over then we leave. We can live on what I make. I'll not let you make a deal with a devil again," Matthew said kissing her.

"I just want to be….God this is….." Caitlin stammered.

"Caitlin look at me. Nothing bad is going to happen to us, we have friends who can help us now," Matthew said, pulling on some cloths as he spoke.

"Matthew please be careful. I need you safe," Caitlin whispered.

"Nothing will happen to me, all I am is the hired scalpel," Matthew said opening the door. "You stay home today, don't mention his name and act like nothin' has happened."

"Sergeant Drake if anything happens to my husband I'll hold you responsible," Susan said glaring at the man in question.

"I'll try to keep him out of mischief Miss Hart," Sergeant Drake replied, chucking weakly.

"Go back to bed Susan, I'll take care of this," Homer said kissing her on the cheek.

Together Jackson and Drake walked down the stairs as quietly as possible. At the bottom Jackson looked up to see Susan watching him. She was chalk white and looking terrified. In all the time he had known her, Jackson had never seen Susan look so vulnerable. Though he could barely think straight he knew instinctively that something important was motiving Susan's fear. With a deep feeling of unease Jackson left the house with Drake. _

After a walk through the dark, freezing morning Drake and Jackson arrived at a pub in an area notorious for trouble. The pub, The Drunken Monk, was the pub of choice for criminals.

Stepping inside a scene reminiscent of a battle field met their eyes. Broken glass littered the floor. The walls, floor and furniture were covered in blood. Three men wearing police uniform had been stabbed. Laying in the centre of the room were the remains of Silas Duggan. His throat had been cut. A bloody barber's razor had been deliberately placed on Duggan's throat. Pinned to Duggan's shirt was a note.

For your crimes barber pay for them in blood. You spider choke upon your own poison that your web has brought you.

Stood looking over was Inspector Reid. His hands were shaking as he tried to write in his notebook.

"JESUS CHRIST!" Sergeant Drake exclaimed covering his mouth.

"HOLY GOD!" Jackson said stopping in the doorway.

"Sergeant Drake glad to see you didn't have any difficulty finding Captain Jackson," Reid said looking at the two men, his eyes betraying his unease.

"Scared the life of me and Susan. Christ this…." Jackson stammered.

"Like being back on the battlefield," Drake replied sombrely.

Stepping carefully Jackson stood over the remains of Duggan, forcing his mind to see a corpse not the man. The harsh light of the pub lamps showing clearly what had been done.

"I found these in the pockets of the three policemen," Reid said grimly, holding out three police badges.

The badges were from Limehouse. Drake and Jackson's heart missed a beat. The three men belonged to Inspector Shine, a man they knew to be corrupt. It was well known Duggan had business interests in Limehouse. The evidence in front of them made for unpleasant reading.

"We know Inspector Shine is corrupt. Shine might be in league with Duggan. No policeman comes here in uniform, those who do end up dead. There has to be a special reason why these three were in uniform," Reid said in a matter of fact tone.

"Duggan arranged to meet someone here, someone he feared would turn violent. Duggan asked Shine for protection. Shine send three of his men to protect Duggan," Jackson suggested, examining the bodies with a surgeon's eye.

"Why here? If Duggan and Shine are in it together why not Limehouse?" Drake asked questioningly.

"Shine can say his men without his knowledge. Be much harder on his own patch," Jackson said calmly.

"Unfortunately that makes sense Inspector," Drake said angrily.

"We need to get this mess back to Leman Street. I have sent a note to Chief Inspector Abberline," Reid said looking at the scene.

"He's not going to be happy with the early morning call," Drake muttered darkly.

"Jackson get back to Leman Street with the bodies. I want to know how they died before nine o'clock. Sergeant Drake you and I will interview the neighbours."

A short time later the remains and Captain Jackson had been dispatched to Leman Street. A small crowd had gathered outside the pub and uniformed officers were keeping the spectators' way from the crime scene. On the icy pub steps Drake and Reid questioned the landlord Mr Brent. Mr Brent had discovered the bodies when he had walked into the bar an hour previously.

"I thought it was just past closing time," Mr Brent said slowly, his grey eyes seemingly unfocused.

"Who was serving bar last night?" Reid asked.

"Pete Smith."

"Where does Pete Smith live? Describe him," Drake said firmly.

"Couldn't tell you Sergeant. Never gave no address. Pete had brown hair and hazel eyes."

"Friends and family he would run to?" Reid asked.

"Couldn't tell you Inspector. Pete doesn't mention his home and I've learnt not to ask questions."

Under his breath Reid swore. Pete Smith as a common name and his appearance could fit a thousand young men in the city. It would be nigh on impossible to find him unless someone came forward with information, which given the circumstances and neighbourhood was highly unlikely.

"Silas Duggan owns this pub," Reid said in a matter of fact tone.

"He does. He has the place to himself whenever he wants it. I didn't ask questions," Brent said, swaying slightly as his eyes slid out of focus.

"How did Pete Smith find Mr Duggan?" Reid asked, overlooking the landlord's behaviour.

"Pete didn't get involved in other people's business. When Duggan was in the bar he and Pete always had a good chat and a laugh. Pete's young, he's run off scared is all," Mr Brent said, his voice trembling.

"If Pete is innocent he has nothing to fear. If he appears encourage him to come to us. Do you know what Mr Duggan was doing here tonight?" Reid asked, scrutinizing the man.

Reid was all too aware of pub's reputation. It was the place snitches and undercover officers went to collect information. No policeman in uniform set foot in the pub. Many policemen had been murdered in the pub over the years.

"I don't. Asking questions gets you killed."

"Why weren't you serving bar last night?" Drake asked suspiciously.

"I was in bed ill. Been ill all day. Pete gave me few stiff drinks to help. Lord knows what he put them but I slept a lot. I didn't hear a thing, honest I didn't. Whatever Pete put in that last drink must have been strong!"

"Our thanks Mr Brent," Reid said.

Reid and Drake exchanged a look, it appeared the man was telling the truth. Both silently cursed the power of drink. The drunk can sleep like the dead, clearly the landlord wouldn't be of any help to them. Pete Smith it appeared had vanished without a trace. Given what had passed he could well be dead.

Snapping shut their notebooks Inspector Reid and Sergeant Drake looked at the pub. As the crowd dispersed Drake grabbed Reid's arm. In the crowd were three policemen, policemen from Limehouse. One was Sergeant Mason, a close friend of Inspector Shine and the late Maurice Linklater. Realizing Drake and Reid had seen them, the three men quickly took off in the direction of Limehouse.

"Interesting coincidence those three being here so early in uniform," Reid said quietly.

"If that's a coincidence my old Granny was queen of England," Drake replied cynically.

In the cold morning Drake and Reid began the walk to the police station through the snow covered streets.


	2. Death upon the web

C2: Death upon the web

Arriving at Leman Street Inspector Reid and Sergeant Drake found the place buzzing with gossip about the morning murder.

Walking into the Dead Room Inspector Reid and Sergeant Drake found the corpses laid on tables. Their personal effects laid beside them. Beside Silas Duggan was; business cards, keys and an expensive pocket watch. The three policemen had; three sets of keys, their badges and gun holders but no guns.

Standing above Silas Duggan was Captain Jackson. The surgeon's hands were inside the man's chest. The apron he wore was covered with blood. On a table were several bloody instruments. Seeing Reid and Drake enter, Jackson looked up from the corpse. Before anyone could speak Chief Inspector Abberline walked through the door.

"Good morning. I have to say few people will be mourn Duggan," Chief Inspector Abberline said, pulling off his gloves.

"We all know Silas Duggan is a nasty piece of work," Inspector Reid replied.

"I've informed Inspector Ressler. As you know Ressler is investigating Duggan in relation to several murders."

"Inspector Abberline these three men killed with him. All policemen from Limehouse. I saw three of Inspector Shine's men in the crowd outside the pub. One of them was Sergeant Mason," Reid said grimly.

"Hells teeth! I need to inform the Commissioner Monro. Do not inform Shine about the death of his men. Do not contact Shine until you have word from me. If you find the slightest evidence connecting Shine to Duggan keep it hidden until we can speak. Shine has to be kept in the dark. He would not be the first inspector to kill his own men to cover up corruption," Abberline snarled pacing the room.

"We have evidence of Duggan's business dealings in Whitechapel. For today we will settle for finding who he was meeting last night and might want him dead," Reid replied firmly.

"Find me suspects and evidence. Swear no one from this shop will set foot in Limehouse," Chief Inspector Abberline said, in a tone that left no room for argument.

"I swear Fred," Edmund said solemnly.

"I swear Chief Inspector," Drake said resolutely.

"I swear. Hope you don't think I'm involved in this," Jackson said, wiping his bloody hands on his apron.

"It is too public for a Pinkerton, your lot prefer a knife in the back at midnight," Chief Inspector Abberline replied, glaring at the American.

"Fred please don't," Edmund said holding up his hands.

"Ah you're right Edmund. I'll speak to the Commissioner. I'll be back tomorrow morning at the latest," Chief Inspector Abberline said walking out.

Leaving the Dead Room, Reid and Drake set about reviewing the files they had on Duggan while Jackson continued is work on the bodies. They need to discover who Duggan was meeting at the pub. They needed a starting point for their investigation. Immersed in their work time slipped without trio noticing.

Putting down his pen Drake stretched as the clock chimed seven. At the exact same time Jackson walked into the room and flopped down onto chair looking exhausted.

"All died from poison. Oenanthe Crocata, Dead man's fingers being one of its common names. Convulsions and a quick death, the choice of professional poisoners. The three policemen were stabbed with a switch blade. Duggan's throat was cut with the barber's razor we found," Jackson said grimily.

"A nasty way to die. Whoever it was knew what they were doing," Reid said.

"You know how this is looking Reid. Shine did it himself or he hired men with the skills needed, he'd certainly know who."

"Jackson let's not be too hasty. The person Duggan met last night has to be the one who ordered the murder. One of Duggan's business associates for instance," Reid replied, leafing through the files.

"At the Drunken Monk? The person Duggan met has to be a criminal," Drake replied, a trace of scorn in his voice.

"I think it is time we had some breakfast, it will allow us to think clearer," Reid said calmly.

"I was just thinking the same thing. Some pancakes with maple syrup would go down a treat," Jackson said, placing his boots up on a desk.

"Pancakes?" Drake asked puzzled.

"Perfect food for starving men. How about it, you boys up for trying some?"

"Will we get good food and a good helping?" Drake asked in a sceptical tone.

"So good you'll not want to eat till tonight," Jackson replied, leaping to his feet.

"Well I've had some funny things in my time," Drake replied smiling.

"Breakfast sounds a good idea. We can pay a call to the private members club Duggan owns afterwards," Reid said holding out a piece of paper.

On it were the addresses of Duggan's business in Whitechapel. Circled in red was that of a private members club. Reid and Drake had visited the club a month previously when they had questioned Duggan about the murders of two men he had employed. Duggan had a private office at the club. Just the sort of place to find evidence of business dealings.

"Good place to start. But we need breakfast first," Jackson said glaring at Reid.

"I agree with you Jackson, early morning calls are never pleasant," Reid grimaced. _

Leaving the police station Jackson led them the Aunt Mabel's, a bustling café and bakery that served classic American food. Aunt Mabel was a handsome women in her mid-forties with a jovial face and quick wit that delighted the patrons. Seeing them enter Mabel left her place behind the counter, she and Jackson greeting one another like old friends.

"Aunt Mabel allow me to introduce Inspector Edmund Reid and Sergeant Bennet Drake," Jackson said politely.

"It is a pleasure to meet two of Whitechapel's finest policemen. Please allow me to escort you to our best table," Mabel replied smiling.

"A pleasure to meet you Mrs," Drake replied.

"Please call me Aunt Mabel."

"Good morning Aunt Mabel," Reid replied as warmth sunk into his bones.

With a small bow Mabel led them up a cosy table at the back of the café. There were two or three empty tables but most were full. On the tables were copies of various American newspapers. Sitting down Jackson ordered three portions of House Special Pancakes and three pots of coffee.

While they waited they soaked up the warmth and relaxed while drinking their coffee. Seeing a copy of the New York Times, Jackson picked it up, curious to find out what was going on at home. He was just reading over the sports page when breakfast arrived.

"Bloody Hell!" Drake exclaimed staring at the food.

In front of them were three plates of thick pancakes, topped with sausages, bacon and maple syrup. Drake and Reid's eyes were on storks at the size of the portion. Putting down his paper Jackson chuckled. Picking up their knives and forks all three began to eat. The food tasted divine. Smiles appeared on all three faces.

"What do you think?" Jackson replied, placing pancake and sausage onto his fork.

"Cracking food Jackson, best breakfast I've had in while," Drake chuckled.

"Very good food Captain, not sure it beats a Full English though," Reid replied raising an eyebrow.

"We'll have to disagree there," Jackson chuckled, pouring himself more coffee. _

Once breakfast had been eaten the trio left Aunt Mabel's feeling a lot better than when they had arrived. In the pale sunlight they walked through Whitechapel to the private members club owned by Silas Duggan.

Arriving at the club they forced their way into the building. Outside the building opposite was a handsome cab and a delivery cart. The trio failed to notice both. They did not see the occupant of the handsome smile, a man with red/brown hair and dark blue eyes. On his lapel was the symbol of a red drake over an anchor. They did not see the delivery cart move down the alley next to the club.

Inside the club the trio searched the ground floor like phantoms. Suddenly they stopped. From above they could hear footsteps and the sound of furniture moving. Hardly daring to breath they crept up the stairs. The smell of burning paper drifting through the air. At Duggan's office they stopped. Taking a deep breath they opened the door. Perched on the edge of an open window was a young man dressed in a police uniform. In the fireplace documents were crackling in the flames.

"You have turned up earlier than expected. My masters needed me to destroy some documents they didn't want you to find," the boy said, his accent a mixture of poor mingled with a hint of middle class.

"Easy lad, no need to do anything rash. What's your name?" Drake asked, holding up his hands.

"Constable James Fenn. My masters threatened to kill my Mam unless I did this," James said, genuine regret in his voice.

"James we can protect you both. If you help us we will provide you both with a new life, somewhere your masters will not find you. You have my word," Reid said, his tone sincere and gentle.

"My masters have a long range. I wouldn't last long. My masters have abused their positions for their own ends," the boy said jumping out of the window.

Drake raced to the window while Reid and Jackson ran the fire, using tongs to salvage the burning documents. Leaning out of the window Drake had a brief glimpse of James laying in the delivery cart. As the cart departed the alley Drake snarled. Slamming the window shut Drake turned to Reid and Jackson, both of whom were laying the burnt paper on the table.

"James knew what he was doing. These have been smothered with oil to make them burn quicker," Jackson said, using tongs to pick up the smouldering remains.

"These are burnt beyond reading," Reid said looking at the remains.

"James said his masters doesn't want us to find the documents. I'd bet they show the masters are involved in illegal business dealings," Jackson said grimly.

"Perhaps they showed who Duggan was meeting last night. Let us hope James has missed some," Reid said.

Without a word they began to explore Duggan's office, gathering up the papers, books and files littering the floor. The documents detailed business Duggan was involved in, shares he held in various companies, list of people who owned him debts and there were several business contracts. Lifting documents out of Duggan's desk Jackson stopped, feeling along the wood his hand went through a small hole. Lifting the wood up Jackson placed it on the floor. The draw had a false bottom. Inside the hidden draw was a strong, locket metal box but no key.

"Reid look at this," Jackson called.

"Interesting. We need to get this back to Leman Street," Reid replied, looking down at the box.

Gathering up the documents they placed them in strong bags they had brought for the purpose. Taking a candle each they tore through the club. Every room was turned over. Cards were laid out, bottles of alcohol and drink stood on tables but there was nothing illegal.

The trio were grim as they left the club. Under the cold sun they walked back to Leman Street carrying the bags of evidence. _

Arriving back at Leman Street Inspector Reid, Sergeant Drake and Captain Jackson began the long process of making sense of the documents. There was plenty of information about Duggan's business in Limehouse, the City and Whitechapel. His holdings in the City were considerably less compared to those in Whitechapel and Limehouse.

"THAT BASTARD!" Jackson swore, gazing at the piece of paper in front of him.

In his hand was the contract between Silas Duggan and Susan Hart. In stark black and white were the terms. Jackson's blood boiled as he read that her debt would be written off if she slept with him.

"It's a bloody good job he's dead," Jackson snarled.

"Jackson the past cannot be changed. Get that locked box open. The key must be part of the set you found on him," Reid said.

With a face like thunder Jackson stormed out of the room. Taking the stairs two at a time he walked into the Dead Room. From the pile of Duggan's possessions he picked up Duggan's keys. For a moment he scrutinized the pile. There was no diary among Duggan's possessions. Walking back up the stairs Jackson returned to his seat. For a while he tried every key. Then with a snap that made every one jump the box opened.

"Christ!" Jackson said, letting out a low whistle.

Piles of bound bank notes, three jewelled necklaces and an uncut sapphire stared up at him. Gently he placed them on the table, both Reid and Drake gazing in amazement at what they were seeing. At the bottom of the box was a black book. Curiously Jackson opened it. Inside was a list of members for the club Duggan owned in Whitechapel. The same club Reid, Drake and Jackson had visited. All the men listed as members lived on Corporation land.

"Mr Keaton were murdered on City land by Duggan's men. Inspector Ressler believed Mr Keaton knew Duggan," Reid said, circling the name Mr Keaton Senior.

At the same time Reid drew a set of files from his desk draw. Files that had been given to him by Inspector Ressler. The files provided information on murders of City men by known employees of Silas Duggan.

"Mr Keaton's son is a member of the club too," Jackson said, drawing a line under the name Mr Keaton Junior.

"This man Mr Osbert, he worked for the Bank of England. He was killed alongside his wife by The Blacksmith," Reid said, circling a third name.

"The evidence Inspector Ressler gathered suggested Duggan ordered The Blacksmith to murder of Osbert Senior and his wife."

"The Blacksmith was killed last month alongside Duggan's accountant Walter Halfpenny," Jackson said, remembering the case they had investigated a month previously.

"Look at that, Osbert's son is also a member of the club," Drake said, finding the name Mr Osbert Junior underneath that at of Mr Osbert Senior.

"Interesting," Reid contemplated, looking at the evidence in front of him.

"We haven't found Duggan's diary," Jackson said.

"A diary is something all businessmen carry with them. Stolen to prevent us discovering who Duggan was meeting?" Reid asked.

"That's a bet even I'd make Inspector. That combined with destroying documents prevents us discovering who Duggan was meeting," Drake said.

"And the person who killed him," Jackson finished.

"We have our first suspects; Mr Osbert Junior and Mr Keaton Junior. Both know Silas Duggan. The fact Duggan murdered their fathers provides their motive," Reid replied leaning back in his chair.

"No businessman would go to that pub," Sergeant Drake said scornfully.

"They could easily have hired people to kill Duggan for them," Reid said.

"Three dead policemen were found besides Duggan," Jackson said.

Before another word could be said PC Wainwright appeared, handing Inspector Reid a letter that had been hand delivered. Opening the letter Reid found it was from Duggan's lawyer. Duggan's lawyer was requesting Reid's presence the next day at the reading of Duggan's will. The lawyer's office was on Corporation land.

"Let us hope the lawyer has some useful information," Reid said, sharing the letter's content with Drake and Jackson.

Without a word they placed the evidence inside the safe in Reid's office. Leaving his office Reid sent a telegram to Chief Inspector Abberline to inform him of the lawyer's letter.

Re-entering his office Reid realized Detective Sergeant Flight had not been seen all day. In the chaos his presence or lack thereof had been overlooked.

"Should we send someone to find him?" Drake asked, also surprised by the absence.

"There could be a perfectly reasonable explanation. Given him till tomorrow, he may simply be ill," Reid replied calmly.

"Reid we've hit a wall here. Any chance we can go home?" Jackson asked breaking the tension.

"I second that," Drake yawned.

"Call a full house," Reid said, rubbing his tired eyes. "Home for all three of us."

Staggering through his front door a short time later, Jackson pulled Susan into his arms to moment he saw her. Once inside the privacy of their bedroom Susan turned to face him, a look of terror on her face.

"What happen?" Susan whispered.

"Poison then cut up like a pig, Duggan and three men," Jackson said, wrapping his arms around her.

"Does Reid think we are involved?"

"Reid knows we are not capable of what happened today."

"Thank God," Susan replied, visibly relaxing.

"We found your contract among papers in Duggan's office."

"That deal with Duggan was the worst mistake of my like. I should have found a different way."

"You did what you had too. Susan nothing bad will happen, his death makes you free," Jackson said kissing her.

"The new owner could demand the same," Susan replied sadly.

"You won't every do that. Several lawyers are clients of yours, I'm sure they would help," Jackson said smiling.

"I do know four judges and five barristers."

"Forget about all that for tonight. Our enemies are dead. We can go anywhere we like, even back to American."

"Help me forget. After Rain….those nights we spent together were magical. I should never have been angry that first night. Matthew I love you."

"Caitlin…..the thought of losing you…..I couldn't bear it. I love you," Matthew said kissing her.

At one of the many London docks, a beautiful Indian women holding a baby boarded a boat. On the deck she walked over an Indian man, a pretty English women and a child of two. To one side of the group stood a young Englishman. Both men bore bandages on their arms, black eyes and swollen lips. On the dockside stood two a smartly dressed men. One was leaning on a cane topped with a gold tiger's head that had ruby eyes. Beside him stood a man with red/ brown hair and blue eyes, wearing a pin bearing the symbol of a drake on top of an anchor on his lapel. In the silence of the night the boat sailed down the River Thames. Once the boat had sailed out of sight the men climbed silently into a waiting carriage. Within moments the carriage faded into the black night utterly unmarked by the dock workers.


	3. Last will and testement

C3: Last Will and Testament

The following day Susan and Jackson were awoken by the sound of hammering of PC Wainwright on the front door. The pair groaned, both were toasty warm in their bed. Smirking Jackson ran his hand over Susan's shoulder as they heard PC Wainwright's boots on the stairs.

"The Captain is indisposed," Susan shouted through the bedroom door.

"The Inspector wants 'im down at Leman Street," PC Wainwright replied.

"He is indisposed. Now go or I'll have you thrown out, "

A muttered reply was barely heard through the door accompanied by the sound of boots going down the stairs. In bed Jackson looked at Susan.

"Now that is a something I never thought I'd see, normally you want me gone," Jackson said kissing her.

"Today I want you all to myself," Susan replied softly.

"I'm always here darling."

"Please stay with me today."

"Susan is something going on you're not telling me?"

"I….I'm. I'm scared of what the future will bring."

"That ain't the full story. I'll let it go for now but we ain't finished," Jackson said looking at his wife.

Under his gaze Susan felt her insides squirm. Looking at him she snuggled closer while trying to keep her composure. Susan had forgotten just how insightful her husband could be. Secrets cannot be kept for ever. Soon it would be time to reveal the one she carried. _

At Leman Street PC Wainwright was stood facing Inspector Reid and Sergeant Drake. Neither were happy at the news that had been brought to them about the American.

"Madam Susan insisted he is unwell," PC Wainwrights said shifting uncomfortably.

"Unwell? Hungover more like," Drake scoffed.

"Jackson can wait," Reid replied heading out the door. "Drake take a short walked to Flight's place, see's what's keeping him away. Don't be more than an hour. Inspector Abberline has sent word saying he wants to meet us at ten thirty."

"Yes Inspector," Sergeant Drake replied. _

Hailing a cab Inspector Reid travelled to the City. Passing through black gates the cab crossed onto Corporation land. Jumping out of the cab Reid stood outside a smart building. The sign about the door read Cowdery and Partners. Walking into the legal practice Reid was led into the office of Alan Cowdery. At a desk sat two gentlemen. One was in his late fifties, his neat brown hair was streaked with silver, and he had hazel eyes and was dressed in a crisp suit of navy blue. A cane topped with a gold tiger's head with ruby eyes was leant next to his chair. Beside him sat Alan Cowdery1 a man with grey hair, cool blue eyes, clean shaven and wearing a pinstripe suit.

"Good morning Mr Cowdery," Inspector Reid said, shaking the lawyer's hand.

"Good morning Inspector Reid, allow me to introduce Mr Grosvenor," Mr Cowdery said politely.

"A pleasure to meet you Sir," Inspector Reid said, shaking Mr Grosvenor's hand.

"A pleasure Inspector Reid," Mr Grosvenor replied in a rich accent.

Under the gaze of Inspector Reid the will of Silas Duggan was read. All his property, businesses, company shares and all his money was left to Mr Grosvenor. Mr Grosvenor was a rich, highly respected and well known investment banker at Bering's. He was extremely well connected so it was surprising he was involved with a man such as Duggan.

"I have known Mr Duggan for well over twenty years. We are business partners and friends," Mr Grosvenor said in a relaxed tone full of sincerity.

"I am surprised that you are the beneficiary," Reid said.

"I agree Inspector it is unusual. Last year Silas fell seriously ill. Once Silas had recovered Mr Cowdery advised him to make a will to safeguard his investments. I was deeply moved Silas choose me to inherit. I never seriously considered the possibility of inheriting his estate. I assumed Silas would marry his mistress," Mr Grosvenor replied smoothly.

"I can confirm that fact Inspector. The will was purely a safeguard," Mr Cowdery said calmly.

Under the eyes Inspector Reid all the relevant paperwork was signed to allow the smooth and swift transition of assets. To Reid's surprise information about the properties and business was given to him.

"A man in my position has a reputation to protect. I trust you will handle this affair with discretion," Mr Grosvenor said smoothly.

"Naturally. Mr Duggan created an appearance of respectability. I believe Mr Duggan used his connection with yourself and respectable society to avoid suspicion," Inspector Reid replied.

Shaking hands with Mr Cowdery and Mr Grosvenor, Inspector Reid left the legal practice carrying the files he had been given. On the carriage ride back to Whitechapel, Inspector Reid read through the files. The files only confirmed information that was already known. There was no indication as to the identity of the person Duggan had met at The Drunken Monk. _

As the clock struck quarter to ten Inspector Reid walked into the police station on Leman Street. At the front desk Sergeant Drake stood talking to Sergeant Artherton.

"No trace of Flight at his place," Drake said, a trace of concern in his voice.

"I will send a PC Wainwright to investigate. Has Jackson appeared?" Inspector Reid asked looking towards the Dead Room.

"Afraid not," Sergeant Artherton answered from the front desk.

"DAMN! Abberline said in his message all of us are to be at the meeting," Reid snapped angrily.

"I'll get Jackson. I'll drag him from bed myself if needs be," Drake replied.

Pulling on his coat Sergeant Drake walked out of the station, letting the door bang behind him. _

Briskly Drake walked through the busy streets. Arriving at Tenter Street he slipped into the house. Inside Drake found Susan and Jackson's curled up on the parlour sofa.

"You Leman Street now," Drake barked.

"Relax Drake," Jackson said casually.

"You should have been there earlier," Drake snapped, glaring at the American.

"I've been needed here," Jackson replied getting up.

"Come on or do I 'ave to drag you?" Drake said flexing his fists.

"Keep your hat on I'm coming," Jackson said donning his coat.

"Come home safely," Susan replied standing up.

"I'll will darlin'," Jackson said kissing her.

Leaving the house Jackson stopped on the front step. Once again that feeling of fordoing had chilled his bones. Deep down he knew Susan was hiding something. In stony silence the Sergeant Drake and Captain Jackson walked to Leman Street.

Arriving at Leman Street Drake and Jackson found Commissioner James Monro and Chief Inspector Fred Abberline stood at the front desk with Reid. Jackson and Drake stopped in their tracks. Seeing the pair enter the trio beckoned them to follow. Silently the five walked into Reid's office. Pulling up chairs they sat down. Neither Abblerline nor Monro were looking happy.

"I have seen all the evidence connected to the murder of Silas Duggan. I know about Inspector Reid's meeting with Mr Cowdery and Mr Grosvenor. I am aware you suspect Inspector Shine in involved in the murder of Silas Duggan. I know about Shine's part in the circumstances that resulted in the death of Maurice Linklater," Monro began in an authoritative voice.

"This morning I ordered Chief Inspector Abberline to investigate Inspector Shine on charges of corruption and the murder."

For a moment no one said a word. Commissioner Monro's decision had serious implications. Climbing to his feet Chief Inspector Abberline spoke.

"Yesterday four of Duggan's men were killed by policemen in Limehouse. On Corporation land six of Duggan's men were killed by men wearing the symbol of a red drake over an anchor."

"Inspector Reid have you found any evidence as to who Duggan met the night he was murdered?" Monro asked.

"Nothing," Reid replied, a note of regret in his voice.

"Then we must use what little we have. I have seen all your evidence. It is my conclusion that Inspector Shine is involved along with a second man. The evidence indicates man is an associate on Corporation land," Monro replied.

"How then do we proceed?" Reid asked.

"A join investigation involving myself, Chief Inspector Abberline, yourselves and Inspector Ressler. No word of this must leave this room. If Shine is corrupt I want him caught," Monro said, his voice like ice.

"Agreed," Reid nodded.

"Of course Commissioner," Drake said firmly.

"Let's go trap a rat," Jackson said.

"I am glad we understand one another. Not a word to family either," Abberline injected.

"I have arranged for us to meet Inspector Ressler. My carriage is waiting outside," Monroe said.

Climbing to their feet then five men donned hats, coats and gloves. Leaving shop they climbed into the waiting cab that would take them to the City.

1 Alan Cowdery is borrowed from the BBC drama Silk


	4. Fat cats on golden cushions

C4: Fat Cats on golden cushions

Arriving in the City, Commissioner Monroe, Inspector Reid, Chief Inspector Abberline, Sergeant Drake and Captain Jackson climbed out of the carriage. On the steps of police station Inspector Sydney Ressler stood waiting for them. Ressler was dressed smartly in a dark blue suit with a navy blue and silvery tie pinned with a silver pin. His black shoes were shining and he was looking grave. Shaking their hands, Inspector Ressler led them into the station.

The station was smarter than the one in Whitechapel, the walls painted a crisp shade of white and there was an air of wealth mingling with an undercurrent corruption. At the front desk a smartly dressed gentlemen was being booked in, while in cells were sat four men in good suits along with a girl in a fine dress. In the upper rooms the walls were littered with information on current cases; pictures of well-dressed gentlemen and pretty girls, cargo ships and jewels. Snatchers of conversation could be heard, at a desk a Detective Sergeant named Archer sat with five constables discussing a jewel heist. It was clear the station dealt with a higher class of criminal then its cousin in Whitechapel.

Leading them into his office Ressler invited them to sit down. The room was light, slightly larger than Reid's office and stacked with information on current cases. There was a strong box sitting on the right hand side. On a board behind the desk were pieces of information, a map of the City and pictures of well do gentlemen. Five comfortable dark brown chairs were set in a circle around desk with one chair behind it.

Unlocking a draw in the desk Ressler drew out a brown file five inches thick. The file appeared stuffed with a variety of information and pictures. For a file to be locked away gave the impression that it contained sensitive information.

"These are the men I believe have reason to murder Silas Duggan," Ressler said, removing a piece of paper from the file.

On the paper were three names along with their occupations and place of work. The first name was that of Mr Osbert Junior, place of work the Bank of England. The second Mr Keaton Junior, place of work Bering's Bank. The third name was Mr Roger Drake, place of work Drake Eastern. Besides Mr Drake's name was a business card bearing the picture of a red drake over an anchor.

"Mr Keaton and Mr Osbert Junior belong to a private members club Duggan owns in Whitechapel. Their fathers did too," Reid said, removing Duggan's black book from the inside pocket of his jacket.

Taking the book Ressler looked at it with interest. Grabbing a black pen with a silver nib he began scribbling down names. Not just the three in question either. Placing the paper to one side Ressler exchanged a meaningful look with Commissioner Monro. Clearly the book had provided had brought valuable information relating to other investigations currently being undertaken by Commissioner Monro and Inspector Ressler.

"I suspect from the start that Mr Keaton Senior and Mr Osbert Senior were connected to Silas Duggan but no evidence could be found. Duggan was able to provide alibis for himself both nights," Inspector Ressler said, handing the book back to Reid.

All the attention turned to the third name on the list. No one dared speak. An icy chill had descended on the room. A clock on the wall ticked ominously. Drake was not an uncommon name yet the horror on Sergeant Drake's face spoke for itself. Only Inspector Ressler seemed unsurprised by Sergeant Drake's reaction, his eyes fixed on the sergeant in a calculating manner.

"Roger Drake is my brother," Sergeant Drake croaked, breaking the silence. "I hadn't seen him for fifteen years. He turned up on my doorstep about a year ago. I thought he was a respectable businessman."

"Roger has a highly lucrative legitimate business and has gained considerable statues within the City. In the past year he has destroyed all competition to become leader of all criminal activity on Corporation land," Ressler stated in a matter of fact tone.

"Roger Drake has come to the attention of those in Scotland Yard and myself," Commissioner Monro said, his bearing calm and composed. "Sergeant Drake you have my full confidence and support."

"I appreciate that Sir," Drake replied, shifting uneasily in his chair.

"Roger has opposed Duggan's attempts to acquire property and businesses on Corporation land. In the past six months a total of fifteen men who were in Duggan's employment have been found dead on Corporation land," Ressler said gravely.

"We need to question Drake, Osbert and Keaton," Reid said, straightening his tie.

"Roger Drake is extremely clever and extremely ruthless. If indeed Drake and Duggan met to discuss business then Duggan would have wished for protection," Ressler said, looking at Sergeant Drake with eyes full of regret.

The words send a shiver down the spines of the men from Whitechapel. Reid and Jackson had heard Bennet speak proudly of his little brother. In his seat Bennet was sitting in silence looking sick. Raw pain was shining in his eyes. His hands clenched tightly on his knees.

"I and Inspector Abberline are investigating Inspector Shine. Today we will read over all cases Inspector Ressler has relating to Duggan. We need as much information as possible before Inspector Shine is spoken to," Commissioner Monro said, his tone broking no argument.

"My men and my files are out your disposal Commissioner. I have told my men the cases you investigate are under the highest level of confidentiality and cannot be spoken about," Inspector Ressler replied, bringing the matter to a close.

Hearing the lie everyone chuckled, smiling at Inspector Ressler's inventiveness. The explanation seemed perfectly plausible with the statement of confidentiality preventing awkward questions being asked. In truth the perfect cover that no one could question. _

Leaving Commissioner Monro and Chief Inspector Abberline to their investigations, Reid, Drake, Jackson and Ressler left the police station. Together they made their way through the well-kept streets of the City. It was cold but dry day bringing everyone outside. Wealth was on display at every turn, jewellery made from the finest gold, silver and precious stones sat glittering in shop windows. Beautiful dress and smart suits in the latest fashion hanging elegantly on mannequins. Men and women alike greeting Inspector Ressler merrily and respectfully. The dresses of the women were of the finest quality and taste. At their heels little dogs yapping and prancing. All of it a far cry from the poverty and dirt of Whitechapel.

Arriving at the Bank of England Jackson let out a low whistle at the display of wealth. Everything about the bank showed quality, from the polished golden lamps to the crisp suits of the banker, clients and clerks. Walking up the reception desk Inspector Ressler showed the clerk his warrant card. The clerk paling as Reid, Drake and Jackson also produced their cards. No bank liked the police coming to call and this was not Inspector Ressler's first visit.

"We are here to speak to Mr Osbert," Inspector Ressler said firmly.

"Of course Inspector," the clerk replied politely, getting up from his seat.

Wring his hands nervously the clerk escorted the men through the bank, passed gleaming white walls, up three flights of stairs and down a short corridor. At a smart brown door with a shining silver handle the clerk knocked twice. An educated voice from within called a reply and with a polite nod the clerk opened the door.

Stepping inside the office the four were greeted by a well-built man sitting behind a large desk. He had a smart brown moustache, short brown hair and keen hazel eyes. Mr Osbert Junior appeared in his late thirties and was dressed in a sharp suit grey. He was holding a cigarette in his left hand and a blue pen in his right and was reading through a long document. The office was smart, the carpet a rich blue, black files sitting in dark bookcases lining the walls and five comfortable looking brown chairs with a pale upholstery were in a circle around the desk. To the left hand side a modest window let light into the room, clearly Mr Osbert was high ranking.

"Good morning Inspector Ressler, how might I be of assistance?" Mr Osbert asked with ease.

"Allow me to introduce my colleagues Inspector Reid, Sergeant Drake and Captain Jackson. We believe you can assist us with an investigation we are undertaking," Inspector Ressler said politely.

"Of course I am always happy to oblige the police, please take a seat," Mr Osbert said, gesturing to the chairs.

Sitting down the four exchanged a covert look. Arranging their chairs Drake and Jackson made it so they were sat at both ends and a little further back. In the two middle seats Ressler and Reid exchanged a look of understanding. Calmly both men slipped open their notebooks.

"It has come to our attention yourself and your father were members of a club a Mr Silas Duggan owned in Whitechapel. Why did you not mention this when I investigated your parent's murder?" Ressler asked casually.

Straightening his tie in a nervous manner Mr Osbert let out poof of smoke while knocking his cigar into an ash tray. Beside it was The Times and next to that The Star, the front page of the latter detailing the investigation into the murder of Silas Duggan.

"At the time it seemed of no importance. There was no reason to think my parents had been in Whitechapel the night they were murdered," Mr Osbert replied smoothly.

"They were murdered by a known associate of Silas Duggan. Could you explain to me why you and your father would stray to a club in Whitechapel, a place of dubious reputation, when there are plenty respectable clubs on Corporation land?" Ressler asked, watching Mr Osbert in a hawk like manner.

"You look into the murder of Silas Duggan," Mr Osbert stated, tapping his pen on the front cover of The Star.

"That we do Mr Osbert," Reid replied without a trace of emotion.

On a wall behind the desk a clock ticked. From the floor above came the sound of creaking floorboards. In the background the five men could hear the voices of bankers, clients and clerks along with snippets of their conversations. In his seat Mr Osbert nervously looked down at some papers then back at the four policemen. His face changing at the realization as to the policemen's visit hit him. No words had been said but even he could read the implications. Taking slow, shallow breaths his eyes flickered between the four men and the door.

In their seats the four policemen sat back in their seats smiling with quiet satisfaction. The old saying of giving people enough rope springing to mind. Glancing at Inspector Reid, Inspector Ressler gave an ever so slight nod of his head, his eyes flicker to the man in front of him.

"Mr Osbert where were you two nights ago?" Reid asked, his tone taking an icy hint.

"I was visiting a friend that night," Osbert replied, an undercurrent of uneasy in his voice.

"I will need your friend's name."

For a second Mr Osbert stared at Inspector Reid, his face showing the distain he felt for the men from Whitechapel. In his smart suit, in his important job Mr Osbert was of the breed who saw Whitechapel people as unworthy of his time. Without a trace of fear Inspector Reid held the man's gaze. Breaking first Mr Osbert turned to Inspector Ressler, his face a mask of indignation.

"Inspector Reid asked you question," Inspector Ressler said coldly.

"Charity. We meet at Long Susan's house in Whitechapel. I paid for the night," Mr Osbert croaked, looking decidedly uncomfortable.

Sitting there Jackson's insides went cold. He was very worried about his wife, he knew she was hiding something important. Something that had her scared and it was rare she showed fear. The last thing he need was for Inspector Ressler to start probing into her affairs. Ressler was unaware of their marriage and Jackson wanted it to stay that way. Taking a deep breath Jackson lit a cigarette to steady his nerves.

"Our thanks for your time Mr Osbert," Ressler said, climbing to his feet.

"Inspector Ressler be advised that Silas Duggan's club and Long Susan house was and is frequented by many City men, such men could make your lives very difficult" Mr Osbert said, his voice full of haughtiness.

Standing on the threshold of the door the four men felt a cold shiver run down their spines. Drake, Reid and Jackson sharing a worried look, all too aware of the clientele of Long Susan's house and the problems that could arise from questioning such men. Nodding politely the four men left the office.

Walking in silence through the bank they left through the front door at the same time as The Chancellor of the Exchequer was walking in. Walking through the streets they spoke in hushed tones. As with all bankers the four had to be cautious when discussing the case. In Inspector Ressler's experience the bankers usually had connections that could make investigations difficult or the means to vanish to foreign climes in a hurry. On more than one occasion men had escaped Inspector Ressler's net by such means.

"Mr Osbert is an interesting man," Inspector Reid mused.

"He is indeed. I will have to consider placing a watch on him. I trust you will check his alibi?" Ressler replied.

"Of course Inspector Ressler," Reid said, his face a perfect mask of composure.

Leaving the matter to rest the four began talking about general matters of daily life of little importance. The streets were well kept, smart carriages passed by on both sides of the road, each driver in a smart uniform. Servants hurrying passed by, some alone and others walking a few steps behind their masters. Some of the smart gentlemen stopped to greet the four while others remained aloof.

Arriving at Bering's Bank the four found it in a flurry of activity. The bank was ringing with the tap of shoes on the floor, the steady clink of coins and the blending a hundred different voices. Walking through the foyer, Jackson was suddenly sent flying as a man with blonde/brown hair and glasses crashed into him. Falling down the pair landed with a thud on the floor, the papers the man was carrying fluttering down around them.

"Sorry so sorry wasn't watching," the man stammered, hastily gathering up his papers.

"Are you alright?" Inspector Reid asked, helping the man to his feet.

"Solomon Quint at your service. Ever so sorry, desperate rush," Solomon Quint said, running off down a corridor.

"I wonder what his hurry was," Inspector Reid said, watching Solomon Quint run into an office.

"Could be anything, you never know what bankers are up," Drake said, helping Jackson to his feet.

"We need to watch our step here. I have recently brought a case against three senior bankers that resulted in convictions. We will not be popular," Ressler said in a low tone.

Ten minutes later the four were sitting in office of Mr Stone. In the privacy of his office Mr Stone sat interrogating them as to the nature of the case, asking what evidence had brought them to the bank, who had given them authority and if the men from Whitechapel fully understood the potential implications of them investigating a man of Bering's. Glaring coldly at the man Inspector Reid and Inspector Ressler explained the murder and what they knew of Mr Keaton Junior. With cool precision Inspector Ressler explained the penalties for impeding a police inquiry the circumstances. With ill grace Mr Stone relented but only if Mr Keaton was questioned in his office. Seeing no other option the four policemen reluctantly agreed.

Half an hour after entering the bank the four policemen sat across from Mr Keaton Junior. He was a slim young man, un-haven, with hazel eyes in a smart dark green suit with a black pattern and a strange air about him. There was a trace of alcohol on his breath. He seemed unconcerned that he was being questioned by two inspectors in relation to a murder investigation.

"Why did you not mention that you and your father are members of Silas Duggan's Whitechapel club when I investigated your father's murder?" Ressler probed gently.

"Father was killed on City land. It didn't seem important," Keaton said shrugging his shoulders, his voice devoid of emotion.

"Where were you two nights ago?"

"I can't remember," Keaton replied arrogantly.

"No good enough lad," Drake snapped, walking over to the young man.

"I was with friends in Whitechapel. I spent the night with a very pretty little cat," Keaton replied, his eyes glinting mischievously.

"The name of the cat and the cathouse," Drake said forcefully, placing his hands on the back of Keaton's chair.

"You were in Whitechapel the night Mr Duggan was killed, think carefully on your words," Ressler said, his voice full of caution.

"The cat's name was Sapphire. The cat house belongs to Long Susan. I raised a glass when I heard of the murder. That filthy, barbaric barber deserved what he got."

In the eyes of Keaton was anger, hate, grief and a reckless disregard for his own life. Like so many before him grief and anger had turned him to life of drink, opium and women. Lost in a world of self-destruction Mr Keaton was a loose cannon capable of anything.

"We will be in touch Mr Keaton, do not leave the City," Ressler said, as the four policemen stood up to leave.

"Inspector Ressler please understand…Mr Keaton is young…he has taken his father's death hard. Do not take his words seriously," Mr Stone implored, his face full of worry.

"Your concern for the boy does you credit Mr Stone, however we must follow the evidence," Reid replied, casting a last look at the young man.

Saying their goodbyes Inspector Ressler, Inspector Reid, Sergeant Drake and Captain Jackson left Mr Stone's office. As they did shouting could be heard from one of the offices along with the sound of breaking glass. Moments later a furious looking Solomon Quint came storming out of an office. Shaking their heads the four men left the bank without giving Mr Quint a second thought.

"Young Keaton is a loose cannon," Drake said, his hands in his pockets.

"I agree with you Sergeant Drake. It appears Long Susan is known to both men," Ressler replied thoughtfully.

"Given both men belong to the same club it is not surprising they visit the same cat house," Reid said calmly.

"We need to get back to the station," Ressler said as a nearby clock chimed midday.

Walking through the streets they soon arrived back at the police station to find Chief Inspector Abberline and Commissioner Monro engrossed in the case files relating to Silas Duggan. The files were considerable and often Roger Drake was mentioned, as were well to do City men, some of which were rather powerful to say the least.

"We will take these files further back at the Yard," Commissioner Monro said sombrely.

"Of course Commissioner," Ressler replied.

"Take care all of you," Abberline said, packing up the files.

"Keep me informed as to your progress but remember, do not stray into Limehouse, I will handle that side," Monro said, as he and Abberline left the office.

Overcome with exhaustion Reid, Ressler, Drake and Jackson flopped down into chairs. Over lunch they sat discussing the morning's events. Either of the two men could commit the murder. The matter of the men's alibis would have bearing on how the case progressed. However the four knew it was possible for either man to arrange the murder without them personally committing the act.

"I have arranged to meet Roger Drake at ten o'clock tomorrow morning. Would the three of you be able to join me?" Inspector Ressler asked.

"Of course Inspector Ressler. Bennet no one will think less of you if you choose not to join us," Inspector Reid said, the sincerity he felt clear in his voice.

"I appreciate that Inspector," Drake replied, a note of despondency in his voice.

"I suggest the three of you spend the afternoon here. Be seen in the City speaking to those that knew Silas Duggan and see what rats come scurrying away," Inspector Ressler said thoughtfully.

"I agree Inspector Ressler. The snitches in Whitechapel have been unusually silent, let us see if City men have looser tongues," Reid replied.

In the bright winter afternoon the boys from Whitechapel took a tour of the City. They were aided by Detective Sergeant Archer, a brown haired man in a brown pattern suit with a red tie. Archer was from a notable City family and was a mathematical wizard. He added legitimacy to the trio from Whitechapel and left people in no doubt that Inspector Ressler had given the trio his full blessing.

As Inspector Ressler had predicated it was an enlightening afternoon. The men who had worked with Silas Duggan had disappeared. Men of good breeding come to trio to tell of gambling debts they owed and the fact Duggan had threatened them if they did not pay. They spoke of Duggan's club being a place where vices could be indulged under the strictest privacy. Many spoke that Duggan recommend them to Long Susan's house.

Roger Drake's name kept cropping up. It seemed Mr Drake was a respected and well liked gentleman. Mr Drake had counselled many men against involving themselves with Duggan. These same men praised Mr Drake the sensible advice. The rivalry between Duggan and Drake appeared common knowledge but all saw it as perfectly natural. The men of the City all agreed that Roger Drake had the breeding and class of a City man. The same men believed Silas Duggan had the stink of Whitechapel about him and that was where he should have stayed.

It seemed to Reid, Drake and Jackson that the men of the City were full of hypocrisies. Duggan's black reputation meant City men sought him out when they wished to commit private vices and illegal activity but by the same token not respectable enough to be involved in public business dealings.

It also seemed too that Silas Duggan had many enemies in The City and that perhaps he had underestimated the power, the influence of such men, and the fact he was mingling with men who had been raised since birth to wield such power. For all his business Silas Duggan had been born a barber's son, while a big fish in Whitechapel and Limehouse to those in the City he was a servant, a useful servant but one who could be eliminated when their positions were threatened.

Under a star filled sky Inspector Ressler, Inspector Reid, Sergeant Drake, Sergeant Archer and Captain Jackson walked out of a bustling pub across from the police station chatting merrily. After a good meal and a couple of bottles of wine all five were feeling very relaxed. Crossing back into Whitechapel Reid, Drake and Jackson began making their way to their respective homes under a cold night sky. The lamps lighting their paths. In the darkness the lights from windows shone brightly. Cloaked in the night Whitechapel took on its familiar edge of danger and sense of lawlessness. _

Arriving home Jackson found the house packed with clients. At her desk Susan was sat reading over the accounts. The dark pink dress she was wearing seemed to add a romantic softness to her appearance. Seeing her, Jackson walked up behind her, planting a kiss on her cheek.

"Evenin' darlin'," Jackson said smiling.

"Good evening Captain what might I do for you?" Susan asked, turning to face him.

"A private audience," Jackson replied, leading her into the parlour.

Locking the door and removing the key Jackson stared at his wife. He was determined to find out what she was hiding. Given the day's events Jackson was praying it was not related to Silas Duggan nor the two City men.

"Susan you've been acting strange for the past few days…"

"Duggan's lawyer Mr Cowdery has requested a meeting with me tomorrow. Mr Grosvenor has inherited Duggan's estate," Susan interrupted, her voice filled with worry.

"Given the circumstances it is to be expected they'd want to speak to you," Jackson said, taking her hands in his.

"I'm scared what they could do to us. I could lose this house or..."

"We'll deal with whatever happens together. I know you're hiding something. Susan you need to tell me what's going on."

Jackson's eyes bore into Susan's. His face taught with worry bordering on fear. Gently he placed one hand on the side of Susan's face. Looking at him Susan's felt the weight of the secret press down on her. Desperately she wanted to confess but something held her back. Pain and uncertainty flickering across her face, Susan allowed herself to be comforted by her husband's touch.

"Tomorrow Matthew, please let me tell you tomorrow. After my meeting with Cowdery and Grosvenor," Susan pleaded.

"Alright tomorrow. I'll hold you to that Susan," Jackson said firmly, looking his wife in the eyes.

"I promise. Matthew hold me," Susan whispered, leaning her head on his shoulder.

Looking at her Jackson felt a shiver of fear run down his spine. Gently pressing his body to hers. What had she done that placed such fear in her? A million fears were racing through his mind. Had the two City men dragged Susan into something? Had a client forced her to be an accessory to a crime? Had Theodore Swift been in touch? The last thought turned his blood to ice. Holding her tightly Jackson prayed whatever it was could be fixed. In the silence of the night Susan allowed herself to relax. For one last night things were as they always had been.


	5. A change of fortune

C5: A change of Fortune

The following day Captain Homer Jackson and Madam Susan Hart left the house at the same time. On the road outside their house stood a smart private carriage. With an anxious look at her husband Susan stepped inside, settling back against the comfortable seat. Through the window Susan sat watching the carriage cross from Whitechapel into the City, unconsciously placing a hand over her stomach. She was extremely nervous about the meeting and all too aware the outcome would change the course of her life. Taking a deep breath Susan fought the nausea and fear that threatened the overwhelm her.

Outside a smart house on Corporation land the carriage stopped. Getting out Susan saw Mr Cowdery and Mr Grosvenor waiting for her, the latter taking her hand to help her down the carriage steps.

"Miss Hart a pleasure to see you again," Mr Grosvenor said, leading Susan into the house.

"Miss Hart you look lovely," Mr Cowdery said, as they entered the drawing room.

The drawing room was large and elegant. The finest curtains of red material hung at the windows. The windows themselves were large, filled with the finest class and illuminated the room. The furniture was of the highest quality wood in the latest fashion. Family portraits hung on the walls along with a large mirror and smart clock chimed above the fireplace. Every inch of the room displaying the wealth of a high ranking banker. A fire was cracking in the fireplace giving warmth and creating a safe, family and comforting feeling.

"Mr Cowdery Mr Grosvenor good morning," Susan replied, sitting down in a soft chair covered in a rich red and cream pattern.

"Miss Hart, as you know I now own the house you rent," Mr Grosvenor began in a gentle tone. "I have seen the contract you had with Duggan. I do not like the terms of your contract. I do not wish for the same terms."

Taking a deep breath Susan looked at both men with fear coursing through her. Both men had been visiting the house every week since she opened. They had always been kind, courteous and very inch perfect gentlemen. However they were powerful and could make her life difficult if they choose to. The fact the meeting was taking place in a private house chilled her bones, however given her business it was not surprising the two men wished to keep the meeting private. While it was accepted that men of high standing visited brothels owning one was a far different matter.

"I do not desire you. I do know the business is profitable and well regarded by gentlemen who visit," Mr Grosvenor said, his manner friendly and business like.

"I keep a tight eye on the finances. I wish for a successful business that caters exclusively for gentlemen," Susan replied confidently, masking the uncertainty within her.

"Truly Miss Hart you have succeeded. Our association will be purely business yet mutually beneficially," Mr Grosvenor said, pushing a contract to Susan across a low dark table.

Reading the contract Susan's heart did a backflip. The rent demanded each month was what the house made in a day. The rent would be paid on the first day of each month and in person to Mr Grosvenor. Susan would provide girls to Mr Grosvenor when he required without charge. When he visited the house with friends they would not be charged for the evening.

Reading through the contract a second time Susan was unable to hide amazement and relief she felt. This was a contract that gave her near complete freedom, more freedom in fact than she ever dreamt of. The terms were entirely favourable to her without any hidden clauses or demands.

"You are pleased with the terms Miss Hart?" Mr Cowdery asked.

"I am indeed, they are far superior than the ones on which Mr Duggan had me," Susan replied softly.

"That gutter born pig was motivated by desire for you alone. He could not see the valuable business contacts that could be made between the gentlemen who call at your house. I am wealthy senior banker responsible for many of the bank's most important clients. Having a place to entertain these clients is of more valuable to me than rent money. Truly it is amazing how a night of entertainment can lead to understanding between gentlemen," Mr Grosvenor replied silkily, his eyes gleaming with intellect.

"I am grateful for your kindness Sir. I am pleased you are my landlord," Susan replied silkily, looking at Mr Grosvenor in a calculating manner.

"Then we are agreed Miss Hart?" Mr Grosvenor said.

"We are Mr Grosvenor."

Taking pens from a metal tray and under the eye of Mr Cowdery, Mr Grosvenor and Susan Hart signed a copy of the contract. A copy was handed to Susan and Mr Cowdery placed the second on his black briefcase. The deal was done. One based on pure simple business sense devoid of emotion, desire and hidden motives. Smiling Mr Grosvenor and Susan knew they had found in the other a worthy business partner.

"Never fear me Miss Hart. I will never take advantage of you," Mr Grosvenor said, his tone changing from business like to fatherly.

From his pocket Mr Grosvenor drew a blue silk purse and handed it to Susan. Opening it Susan gasped as it contained 1000 guineas, twice the sum Duggan had demanded just weeks previously. Fingering the money Susan felt a thrill run down her spine and her mind looking for the slightest sign of deceit, wondering why such a sum had been gifted to her and what was wanted in return.

"Consider it compensation for the exploitation suffered at Duggan's hands. A gesture of goodwill without bond or demand."

"You have my deepest thanks Mr Grosvenor," Susan replied, relaxing a little.

"Miss Hart you are a true lady. Live as you choose. I will not interfere with your life or business. Yourself and your girls have my protection," Mr Grosvenor said, his voice and eyes showing the sincerity of his words.

"Truly Mr Grosvenor you are a gentleman of the highest honour. Should I wish to invest the money?" Susan asked, playing with purse of money.

"It would be a pleasure to assist you. You are a shrewd business woman Miss Hart, we will work well together," Mr Grosvenor said, leaning back in his chair.

"I believe we will," Susan said smoothly, placing the purse in her bag.

"Never fear to call on me should you require help. On my mother's soul I swear never to touch or harm you," Mr Grosvenor said, placing at hand over his heart.

Shaking hands Mr Grosvenor and Mr Cowdery and Susan walked out of the house. Climbing into the carriage Susan bid them both farewell, receiving smiles in return.

As the carriage rattled through the streets Susan sat marvelling at her amazing good fortune. The contract was freedom beyond imagining. There was no doubting the sincerity of Mr Grosvenor's promise not to touch Susan. Above all he was a businessman who had the ability to respect other's talents. He even seemed to have a fatherly concern for Susan.

For a moment Susan wondered why Silas Duggan's will was under the care of Mr Cowdery and not that of Mr Ronald Capshaw. Yet perhaps Mr Cowdery had the expertise in inheritance while Mr Caphaw specialized in commercial and property law. Strange though that Ronald Capshaw handled all of Silas Duggan's affairs but not his will.

Arriving at Tenter Street Susan stepped out of the carriage. Soft flakes of snow were falling. A sudden surge of snow obscuring Susan from the world. For a moment Susan stood in the snow gathering her thoughts. One hand unconsciously straying to her stomach. Feeling the fabric through her gloved hand Susan allowed her eyes a briefly glance down at her stomach. A single tear running down her cheek and her eyes shining with guilt.

"I'm sorry," Susan whispered, brushing the tear away.

Pushing open the front door Susan felt the warmth envelop her. The house was eerily quiet, as if waiting for a storm to crash down upon it. Taking her coat off, Susan smiled serenely as the girls gathered around her. The girls faces were filled with curiosity mingled with concern. Half-dressed they clung to one another, some shivering despite the warmth and others tense as if ready to flee at a moment's notice.

"Miss Susan what happened?" Charity asked hesitantly.

"We are free," Susan laughed, telling the girls what had passed.

In utter amazement the girl gasped. It was beyond their wildest dreams. For them to be protected was a thing most had never experienced. All at once they began hugging one another and Susan. The news warming the hearts of even the most cynical girl. They were utterly free to live as they wished, for the first time protected by a man they all knew and liked.


	6. Roger Drake

C6: Roger Drake

While Susan was at Mr Grosvenor's house, Sergeant Drake, Inspector Reid, Captain Jackson and Inspector Reid stood in the smart City offices of Drake Eastern. They were in Roger Drake's private office. The office oozed luxury, there were comfortable red leather chairs and a desk in a deep brown wood of the finest quality. A globe sat on the desk and a large map of Asia was pinned to wall behind. A large window that overlooked the street flooded the room with light. On the walls were shelves stacked with files and ledgers.

Behind the smart desk sat Roger Drake, a slim man with blue eyes and red hair. The smart green pin striped suit he wore was of the finest fabric. On his lapel was the symbol of a red drake over an anchor.

"Well Bennet here we are. I am a business owner and you a police sergeant, few people would have believed the Drake boys could come so far," Roger said in a sophisticated upper class tone.

"We've both seen places we only dreamed of going," Sergeant Drake replied uneasily.

Sitting in a patch of sunlight Sergeant Bennet Drake was looking deathly pale, his eyes heavily ringed with deep black shadows, his suit slightly crumbled, his hair dishevelled and his face revealing the anxiety he felt.

"Mr Drake what is your knowledge of Silas Duggan?" Inspector Reid interjected forcefully.

"A business man who had been trying to make inroads into the City. I refused his propositions. He was not of the class to join us here," Roger said, a trace of disgust in his voice.

"We know of your illegal businesses. Duggan was a rival or perhaps you were allies until Duggan outlived his usefulness," Inspector Ressler said sharply.

"What a fanciful imagination to have Inspector Ressler. You are free to draw whatever conclusions you wish," Roger replied in a condescending manner.

"I have evidence that proves you have blocked Duggan's attempts to buy property and business on Corporation land," Inspector Ressler stated.

"I considered it my duty to inform my friends and associates as to the true nature of Mr Duggan. Involvement with Duggan could have led them to being investigated by yourselves."

"How noble of you to consider the reputations of others. Duggan's men have been killed by men in your employment," Inspector Ressler replied.

"Inspector you seem to be under the illusion that I am a criminal. I cannot answer for the actions of my employees. Someone could have personal reasons to kill his men."

"Your whereabouts the night Mr Duggan was murdered?" Reid interjected, oblivious to muttered protest of Inspector Ressler.

"That night I was hosting a party for distinguished guests which included the head of Bering's and the head of Barclay's banks. I am sure they would be able to attest to my whereabouts," Roger said, a touch of satisfaction in his voice.

Inspector Ressler clenched his fists tightly and shot an infuriated look at Reid. He was all too aware of the party Roger had hosted. Glowing reports had appeared in the society pages the following day along with choice pictures. Those present would attest to Roger's presence and high moral character. It Roger had provided an alibi that was impossible to doubt as many of the attendees were of the highest standing in society.

"Our thanks for your time Mr Drake," Ressler said, reluctantly ending the interview.

Without another word the four policemen got out of their chairs, stiffly shaking Roger's hand. For a moment the Drake brothers clasped hands, looking at Roger, Bennet tried to see criminality within. For all the accusations he heard levelled at Roger, Bennet wanted desperately to believe his little brother innocent of the crimes.

Sitting comfortably in his chair Roger was watching the four men with the air of a debonair fox. His sharp eyes were fixed calculatingly on the two inspectors and a sly, knowing smile was playing across his face.

"Inspector Reid a rumour has been whispered. A poisoner saved from the noose by the man who caught him. Rumour is that Silas Duggan died from poison."

"Do you have any proof?" Inspector Reid asked sharply, stopping at the door.

"None, save only whispers in the shadows. Look to the marbled halls of golden men who have access to unlimited funds. Look to men who are well versed in the criminal world. It is a wonder what could be achieved if two such men joined forces."

"For a man who is not involved in criminal activities you have a grasp of how such things are conducted. Good day Mr Drake," Inspector Reid said.

"When drink flows at night it is a wonder what rich men and their guests let slip," Roger replied with an enigmatic smile.

Arriving back at Inspector Ressler's station house the quartet sat in Inspector Ressler's office discussing what had passed. Roger Drake had both the motive and knowledge of the criminal underworld to engineer Duggan's murder. Or he knew who had killed Duggan and was trying to steer the police in the right direction. For gold men with unlimited funds was clearly meant to mean a banker. In either case that alone did not account for the presence of policemen from Limehouse. The whole encounter had been strange, unsettling and raised more questions.

For the first time Sergeant Drake understood the conflict and unease that Jackson felt whenever they had to ask Long Susan questions. In his chair Bennet Drake was looking gaunt, cold and terribly ill. He looked utterly drained from the morning's work. His usual fire replaced by exhaustion and a hundred conflicting emotions.

Catching the emptiness in his eyes Jackson handed him a small flask. Nodding Drake took it without question. Taking a drink he gasped as fire surged through his body. The colour returning to his cheeks and a half smile appearing on his face. Handing the flask back to Jackson, Drake forced his mind to focus on the matter at hand and to take his emotions out of the equation.

"We need to inform Chief Inspector Abberline and Commissioner Monro of what passed with Roger. It is time we left, our thanks Inspector Ressler," Reid said, shaking Ressler's hand.

"My thanks also, this morning has been enlightening," Ressler said as Reid, Drake and Jackson left the station house.

Under a snow filled sky Inspector Reid, Sergeant Drake and Captain Jackson crossed into Whitechapel. The snow was falling softly all around them adding a strange calmness to the city. Here and there were patches of ice. The cold nipping at their faces sending shivers down their spines. As they walked the bustling streets of Whitechapel Sergeant Drake was unusually quiet, his face was haggard and his hands were stuffed into his pockets.

"Bennet go home. No one here will think less of you," Inspector Reid said gently.

"Thank you Inspector," Sergeant Drake replied despondently.

Turning on his heal Bennet headed off through the snowing into the maze of streets. Watching him go Inspector Reid and Captain Jackson exchanged a worried look. Both were praying Bennet did not do something rash. There was nothing like family to cause common sense to go out the window.

"Jackson we need to speak to your wife. Then we must speak to Abberline and Monroe at Scotland Yard," Reid said grimly.

"Whatever you say Reid," Jackson replied, looking somewhat uneasy.

Walking through the bustling streets of Whitechapel Reid and Jackson soon arrived at Tenter Street. Entering the house they found Long Susan standing by the stairs talking to Sapphire. The latter was in a revealing blue outfit that highlighted her blue eyes and her brown/blonde hair was flowing freely. Susan was in a stunning green dress that hugged her figure and set off her eyes. Seeing them enter Sapphire seemed to eye up Reid as a cat would a juicy mouse. A look of displeasure instantly appearing Susan's face as she caught sight of Reid.

"I require an interview Madam," Reid said, unbuttoning his coat.

"This way," Susan replied frostily, leading them into the parlour.

Inside the room Susan stood beside the fireplace. She wasn't looking at all happy yet at the same time there was a vulnerability that Reid had never seen. Ignoring Reid, Jackson placed his arms protectively around his wife. Susan relaxed at his touch, leaning against him yet her eyes were fixed on Reid.

"Madam two nights ago were a Mr Keaton and Mr Osbert Junior in this house?" Reid asked, flipping open his notebook.

"They were Inspector Reid. Both men paid for the night," Susan replied coolly.

"Did they leave at all?"

"Not to my knowledge. I can call the girls who they were with," Susan replied.

"Please do," Reid replied.

Walking to the door Susan called out the names of Charity and Sapphire. A few minutes later both girls appeared. Seeing them Sapphire smiled in a feline manner. The light causing the blonde streaks in her light brown hair to glitter like rivers of gold. Charity stood looking scared and was twiddling a simple silver ring nervously as past experiences had taught her to avoid the police.

"Two nights ago did Mr Osbert and Mr Keaton spend the night with you?" Reid asked.

"Yes Inspector Reid," Charity replied, her fear evident in her voice.

"Yes," Sapphire replied, walking towards Reid in a seductive manner.

"What time did they leave?" Reid asked formally.

"Seven the following morning," Charity said, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

"Ten the following morning, once we had both recovered," Sapphire smiled wickedly, running her hands over Reid's shoulders.

"My thanks ladies, you are free to go," Reid replied, trying to retain his composure.

"Good day Inspector," Charity said rushing out the door.

"A pleasure as always Inspector Reid," Sapphire said, lightly kissing Reid on the cheek as she walked out the door.

By the fireplace Susan and Jackson stood chuckling, Reid was blushing and shuffling uncomfortably. Sapphire regularly flirted with him but this was the first time she had kissed him. Sapphire was beautiful, intelligent with an alluring streak that even Reid could not fail to notice.

"That girl is a wicked one Reid, you'd best be careful," Jackson chuckled.

"Brazen too," Reid replied pulling at his tie.

"Sapphire is a favourite of lawyers. She likes her men to be smart, you're just her type," Jackson said mischievously.

"Inspector might I enquire as to why you are interrogating my girls?" Susan asked, smirking wickedly.

"I simply need to know the whereabouts of two men. My thanks Madam, rest assured you are not under any suspicion," Reid said in a kindly tone.

"Susan don't worry, we just needed to confirm a couple of alibies. I'll be home early tonight," Jackson said hugging her tightly.

"Make sure you are," Susan whispered, her eyes softening with relief.

Leaving the house Jackson looked back at his wife. Her behaviour had him extremely worried. For her to show even a hint of weakness in front of Reid told him something was wrong. Closing the door Jackson reluctantly joined Reid on the street with a deep feeling of unease in his bones.

Together the two men hailed a cab and ordered the driver to take them to Scotland Yard. They now had to inform Commissioner Monro and Chief Inspector Abberline what passed. Time was crucial, for if indeed Shine was involved he had to be kept in the dark. If it was a man from The City then extreme care had to be taken. No half guess, no relating Duggan's murder to old cases unless there was clear evidence of a connection. So far all the evidence led to Inspector Shine, Roger Drake, Mr Osbert Junior and Mr Keaton Junior. _

While Reid and Jackson were talking to Long Susan, Bennet Drake was walking through his front door. In the kitchen Bella sat at the small table mending a pair of trousers that had considerable rips to the knees. To one side sat a jacket and coat both bearing rips to the sleeves. Seeing him Bella jumped to her feet, her face filling with concern as she took in his haggard appearance.

"Bennet what has happened to you?"

"I had to interview Roger in relation to criminal activities," Bennet began, telling her what had passed.

Years of guilt, pain and anger came pouring from Bennet. He blamed himself for how his little brother had turned out. For not protecting him or being there all those years ago. Bennet had been the second oldest in his family. After he gone into the army he had rarely seen or wrote to his family.

In the months since Roger had been in London Bennet had seen him often. Bennet had felt pride at the seemingly legitimate company Roger had built from scratch. Bella and Bennet had been to Roger's house in The City numerous times. Roger had taken Bennet into The City for a memorable night out where there had been much fun, laughter, fine food and fine drink that had resulted in Bennet having a killing hangover the following morning. The news of Roger's criminal activities had pulled the rug from under Bennet's feet.

"Bennet you are not to blame for how Roger has decided to live his life. You did not enter a life of crime, Roger choose his life," Belle whispered hugging her husband tightly.


	7. Revelation of the future

C7: Revelation of the future

That night Jackson arrived home feeling exhausted. The day's events had been tiring on mind and body. Walking through his front door Jackson found the house playing host to a set of barristers. There was a merry mood in the house. Susan was stood talking to one of them, a distinguished looking man still in his robes and wig wearing a smart pair of spectacles. The man was regaling Susan was a tale of the fraud case he just won. Jackson knew the man was a very well respected QC and that the case in question had resulted from a joint investigation between Inspector Ressler and Inspector Garnet of Chelsea. Susan looking relaxed and very interested in the conversation.

Seeing Jackson enter Susan bid the man farewell, her place being taken by Sapphire much to the man's delight. Taking his hand Susan led Jackson into the parlour, locking the door securely behind her.

"Susan what happen today with the lawyer?" Jackson asked, anxiously pacing the room.

"Mr Grosvenor wants free access to the girls and in rent what the house makes in a day. He does not desire me. I and the girls have his protection. He gave me a thousand guineas as compensation for Duggan's treatment," Susan replied smiling broadly, her eyes sparking with delight.

"GOD DAMN! We are free now darlin'. We can live as we want without fear," Jackson laughed, picking her up and spinning her around.

"Free….we are free," Susan whispered, wrapping her arms around him.

For a moment they looked at one another in utter awe as they realized what the day's event meant for them. All the stress, worry and anger of the recent weeks vanishing in an instant. All the anger and cruel words forgiven. Holding onto one another tightly Jackson and Susan revealed in the true relief the day had brought.

"Caitlin you promised to tell me the secret you've been keeping," Jackson said, his voice taking on a note of worry.

"Matthew…I really need to tell you," Caitlin began, her voice and face betraying a sense of insecurity.

"Caitlin you've been vomiting and your behaviour has been different these past weeks. I'm a surgeon not a fool," Matthew replied, placing her gently on her feet.

"We have both tried to avoid what is in front of us," Caitlin replied, walking away from him.

Gripping onto the mantelpiece she looked into the swirling orange glow of the fire. Pain, sorrow and guilt shone in her eyes. Folding one arm across her body she stared into the fire. Taking a step forward Matthew looked at one then stopped, unsure what to say or do for the best.

"Caitlin please tell me," Matthew whispered, reaching a hand out to her.

"I'm pregnant Matthew."

Standing by the fire the light turned Caitlin's hair into liquid gold. Sorrow mingled with fear and confusion shining in her eyes as tears rolled down her cheeks. Bathed in firelight all the fear she had kept locked away had broken out. The simple true she had known but tried desperately to deny. Now forced to confront the truth the magnitude of the situation overwhelmed her.

Taking her by the hand Matthew led her out of the parlour upstairs to his bedroom without a word. Matthews face perfectly calm. Entering the room Matthew locked the door tightly and placed a sack at the gap beneath the door and floor. The room was lit by soft lighting giving it a sense of warmth and security. Looking around the room Caitlin saw the surgeon's instruments and various bottles, her eyes full of confusion. She had been expecting many reactions from her husband but this one had thrown her.

"I need to find out how far along you are," Matthew said in calmly, his demeanour every inch that of a surgeon.

"I understand Matthew," Caitlin whispered, laying down on the couch.

Neither spoke as Matthew examined her. Both avoiding each other's eyes. Caitlin's eyes turned to the wall so she could not see what her husband was doing. Within minutes Matthew confirmed she was two and a half months pregnant. Looking at his wife Matthew let out a low whistle as he washed his hands. His mind reeling while Caitlin just lay there in silence.

Gently Matthew carried Caitlin over to the bed, placing her down on top of the red duvet with the uttermost care. Her golden hair glittering against the soft red covered pillow. Slipping off his boots Matthew lay down beside her. For a moment they both lay together under a blanket of deafening silence. For the first time since arriving in London, Caitlin felt utterly lost. All her strength had vanished as the mask of power had been shattered. Looking at her Matthew felt a weight of responsibility descend onto his shoulders.

"What are we going to do Matthew?" Caitlin asked desperately, tears falling from her eyes.

"Fraid I don't have a plan for that, not the thing we covered at Pinkerton."

"Between us we know how to end this."

"That really what you want?" Matthew asked in a sceptical tone.

"What other choice is there?" Caitlin asked, her eyes swimming with sorrow.

Together their eyes flickered over to the small green plant growing on the desk. A plant that if brewed correctly could cause miscarriage. The tension hung in the like a thick smog as they thought of that that path would mean. The path they choose now would alter their lives for good, no matter what their decision nothing would be the same.

"I can see what you can't bear to admit to yourself. You want the baby, if you didn't then you wouldn't be feeling scared. You can do whatever you want in this matter. I love you darlin'. Choose Caitlin," Matthew said, softly stroking her hair.

Laying there Caitlin let out a soft sob. Placing a hand on her stomach Caitlin felt her heart surge with love for the baby. Her mind at last able to admit what her heart craved from the start. All the stress and guilt of the past days overwhelming her. A mixture of love, sorrow and utter desperation glittering in her eyes.

"I saw Father lose his kindness the rain soaked day we buried my mother and my sister Annabella. I saw the cruelty within consume him. I saw family I loved destroyed. If Theodore found out he would…"

"Theodore has no way of finding out. I will protect you," Matthew replied gently placing his hand over her stomach. "I want our baby Caitlin."

Matthew's heart was beating frantically. Never before had he wanted anything as much as he wanted their child, not even to have Caitlin Swift as his own. He was terrified for he could see the desperation in Caitlin. Only once before had he seen Caitlin filled with despair, one black day in New York when she had revealed the events surrounding the death of her mother Meredith and sister Annabella. He had prayed never to see her suffer in such a way again, seeing her now broke his heart.

Looking at her husband Caitlin saw the utter sincerity in her husband's eyes, saw the smile on his face and the love in his eyes. Laying there Caitlin looked down at her stomach, feeling the weight of her husband's hand. Her mind flickering to her idyllic childhood and the love her mother Meredith had given her. To the wonderful bedtime stories Theodore once told, the love he gave her and the love between Theodore and Meredith. Caitlin felt a long lost flower bloom in her heart, the love of a mother and a child. Caitlin saw her own recent actions, her kindness towards the girls, helping Rose without a second thought, treating Lucy like a sister and the business with Rain.

Gently Caitlin moved her hand across her stomach. In that moment she saw the baby that could be born in her mind's eye. Soft emerald eyes gazing adoringly up at her, a smiling face, dark curls and hands reaching to her. A perfect mixture of herself and Matthew. A baby swaddled in a blanket of dark green, innocent, beautiful and hers.

"My baby," Caitlin whispered, tears running down her cheeks.

Brushing back the tears Caitlin smiled and a deep sense of peace entering her heart. Her fears no longer ruling her heart. Fire surging through her veins, her strength burning brightly once more. A fierce determination entering her heart, in that moment the shadows of the past vanishing.

"I love our baby Matthew. I choose to become a mother," Caitlin whispered.

Before she could say another world Matthew kissed Caitlin. Grinning from ear to ear Matthew laughed. Gently he kissed Caitlin's stomach and placed his hand over hers. Caitlin laughing through tears of joy, her emerald eyes sparkling with happiness.

"I swear to protect you both, I swear never to hurt either of you and most of all I swear from now on you both come first," Matthew said, his eyes shining ferociously with love.

"Thank you," Caitlin replied, tears of utter joy running down her cheeks.

Gently Matthew wrapped his arms around Caitlin, one hand remaining resting protectively on her stomach. His vow blazing ferociously in his heart. Overcome with exhaustion Caitlin snuggled into his embrace. Laying on Matthew's bed the pair fell asleep in each other's arms.


	8. The greatest betrayal

C8: The greatest betrayal

The following day Susan and Jackson woke up in each other's arms. For the first time in days Susan smiled with genuine happiness. Looking at her Matthew saw something in her that he had never seen before, there was a depth to her smile and the joy in her eyes. Rolling out the bed Jackson hurriedly began pulling on a set of clean clothes.

"I gotta go or Reid will come asking questions," Jackson said reluctantly.

"I wish you could stay with me," Susan said getting out of bed.

At the front door the pair kissed. Gently Susan placed a hand across her stomach and seconds later Jackson placed his across it. For a moment the pair stood united in their love. Reluctantly letting her go Jackson opened the front door and left the house with whistling. From the top step Susan watched her husband walk down the street. In the pale light of the dawn Susan felt her heart soar with hope. _

Arriving at Leman Street, Jackson groaned as the heavens opened sending down an icy cold mix of rain and hailstones. Glancing down to the opposite end of the street he saw Sergeant Drake walking towards him under the railway bridge. On the tracks above, the early morning train to Manchester Piccadilly rushed passed, rattling windows of nearby shops. Catching each other's eye both men exchanged a common groan, there was nothing worse for a shift then bad weather.

Suddenly a rapid blast of gunfire exploded, sending bullets a hundred directions. Through the smoke and rain ran Detective Sergeant Albert Flight. Pursuing him were Sergeant Mason and two of his fellow policemen from Limehouse. Seeing Jackson and Drake, the three policemen began firing at them as well as at Flight. Lost in a misty confusion of smoke, bullets and bad weather the terrified members of the public ran. As guns fired policemen raced out of the police station, including Inspector Reid, Commissioner Monro and Chief Inspector Abberline.

As Flight neared the station Jackson drew his gun, firing rapidly. One shot hitting Sergeant Mason in the leg, sending him to the floor. As he fell Mason fired, his bullet hitting Flight's left shoulder sending him to the ground. At the same time Reid, Abberline and Drake opened fire. The bullet of Abberline hitting Sergeant Mason in the chest, killing him instantly.

As the smoke cleared the devastation appeared through the rain and hail. In addition to Sergeant Mason one other lay dead from a bullet to the head, the second had been killed by three bullets and the third had fallen from two bullets to the head. Standing over them was Inspector Reid. Reid's face was full of white molten anger as he ordered the dead man to be moved to the Laboratory. The general public fearfully coming to their feet, while many were injured no one had died. Bullets were lodged in several walls and had shattered several windows. The Brown Bear had three in its door and the landlord was standing looking at the devastation in shock.

Sergeant Bennet Drake was kneeling down bedside Flight. Drake's face was full of anger, shock, pain and disbelief. His left hand was pressed against his right arms, from under which a stream of blood was flowing. His gun laying besides him on the ground, its bullets spent.

Flight lay on the road gasping for breath. He was pale, covered in bruising to his face and signs of cuts to his arms. His once smart suit was torn and covered in a mixture of mud and ice. Blood was pouring from a wound in his shoulder, his eyes wide with fear and pain.

Jackson's face was full of cold anger. Soaking wet he was unmarked by the gunfire. Slowly Jackson walked to Bennet and Flight. Kneeling down he ran expert eyes over Flight and Drake. Kneeling down relief came flooding through him, never had he been so grateful to be alive, images of Susan and last night flooding his mind.

At the same time Abberline and Monro walked out to where Reid stood. Standing in the rain and hail the policemen stood looking at the devastation a brief few moments had caused. For a moment the only sound was the pattering of rain and the steady hammering of the hail.

"What in God's name caused this?" Monro whispered, staring at the scene.

"I will find out," Reid vowed in a quiet tone full of anger.

"Flight is the key it seems," Abberline growled.

"It would seem so Fred," Reid replied, looking over to where Flight knelt.

Walking into the station practical heads prevailed and police due process was remembered. Ignoring the black looks on the older men's faces, Jackson hauled Flight and Drake into the laboratory. Opening his bag and cabinets he set about patching the pair up. With extreme care Jackson removed a bullet from Drake's arms. Under his breath Drake muttered an oath yet remained perfectly still. Grinning at the sergeant's calmness Jackson gave him a dose of laudanum for the pain and set about sewing and bandaging up the wound.

"Thanks Jackson. You're a lot better than some of the butchers who treat me in the past," Drake said as he felt the pain ease.

"Glad to hear it Sergeant, you're a tough old war dog," Jackson replied, washing his hands.

Turning to Flight, Jackson began cleaning to the young man's face and arms. Turning his attention to the shoulder Jackson cut away Flight's jacket. The bullet was buried deep within in the wound. Flight was frightfully pale and trembling. Eyeing the lad Jackson gestured for Drake to hold him lad still. With a wiry grin Drake handcuffed Flight to the chair and placed both hands on his shoulders. With uttermost care Jackson removed the bullet, Flight yelling out as an intense pain ripped through his shoulder. His body trembling Flight gasped for breathe as the wound was stitched. Looking closely at the lad Jackson gave him some laudanum.

Silence descended on the room, the only sound that bouncing of rain and hail on the windows. The floor of the room was slick with water and all three began to feel the cold as the adrenaline left their bodies. Then the door opened, Reid, Abberline and Monro walking in looking grim.

"My office now," Reid said sternly.

Without a word Drake, Jackson and Flight climbed to their feet, walking into Reid's office in single file. The air was heavy with tension as the six took seats, Monro behind Reid's desk with Reid and Abberline either side. Flight sitting directly in front of the desk with Drake and Jackson on either side.

Flight's absence over recent days had been noted and concerns raised when no trace of him had been found at his lodging house. His landlady unable to provide any information as to his whereabouts when Sergeant Arthertone had gone calling. Reid had been keeping these details to himself, only discussing it late at night with Arthertone when Drake and Jackson had left.

"Three officers' dead, it is only by luck that no civilians died. Three policemen men from Limehouse shooting at you. I want an explanation," Monro said coldly.

"The truth Flight," Abberline snarled gruffly.

"I confess my sins," Flight replied with composure.

"What have you done lad?" Drake asked with a sense of dread.

Taking a deep breath Flight looked at those assembled in the room. Then he drew a leather wallet from his pocket and set it on the table.

"I was a poisoner in Limehouse. Inspector Shine caught me. He saved me on the proviso I join the police. I joined but all the time doing his bidding and covering his corruption. Inspector Shine put me here to spy on you Inspector Reid," Flight said, his voice full of guilt.

The words were like knives through butter. The betrayal of trust, uniform, friendship and honour. No one dared speak yet the betrayal and anger in their eyes spoke volumes.

"Inspector Shine ordered me to kill Silas Duggan. I visited The Drunken Monk earlier that day, persuaded the landlord to have a drink with me then I drugged his drink to make him sleep. Shine had arranged for Duggan to parley with a rival at the Drunken Monk. Shine sent officers to protect Duggan. I poisoned Duggan's drink seconds before the rival arrived. The rival then slit Duggan's throat with a barber's razor."

"What of the three policemen, how did they die?" Monro asked without a trace of emotion.

"After Duggan was killed the barman poured everyone drinks. I slipped poison into the drinks of the policemen as I had been ordered to. I then left," Flight said, hanging his head in shame.

"What was the name of the rival Duggan met? What became of the barman Pete Smith?" Reid asked, his voice full of molten anger.

Slowly Flight opened the wallet. Inside was a vial. One it the symbol of poison and the name Oenanth Crocata. The same poison that killed Duggan and the men from Limehouse. A second piece of paper gave the name Mr Hemlock and address of a chemists in Whitechapel.

"I do not know what became of the barman. The rival was named Mr Richardson. I never saw his face nor that of his men, all arrived wearing masks and hooded cloaks. I returned to Inspector Shine once Duggan and the policemen were dead."

"We can presume Mr Richardson and his men dealt with the barman Pete Smith. Without a description Mr Richardson will be difficult to find," Abberline snarled, pacing the room in frustration.

"It is likely Mr Richardson is an alias, seeing as the name has not appeared in any of the files we have on Silas Duggan," Monro said in calculating manner.

The words caused everyone to pause. The men were all thinking the very same thing, was Mr Richardson in fact Roger Drake? The effort Mr Richardson had taken to disguise himself and the fact Flight had poisoned Duggan prior to his arrival indicated Mr Richardson did not wish his identity to be known.

"Inspector Shine took me to the house of Duggan's mistress Indira. I was kept at Indira's house because Inspector Shine said I needed to keep my head down. The night after the murder she, along with the child she had by Duggan left the house. She did not return. Today Sergeant Mason and the two constables appeared. I was to die so truth could never be known. I fought, jumped through a window and ran here."

Flight hung his head. The silence hung heavily as pens recorded his last words. The five witness stared at one another in utter shock. The mistress of Duggan, Indira, also known as Rajani. In the turmoil they had not though to question her nor wondered as to why she had not come forward with information.

A couple of months previously her brother Singh had been found dead beside two of Duggan's men The Blacksmith and Walter Halfpenny. It was suspect her second brother Vritra had killed the men. This case remained unsolved as the Vritra had vanished. Not once had they thought about her nor the open case. So caught up with the evidence linking the case to Shine and City men they had overlooked her. It seemed forgetting her had been a grievous oversight.

Reid, Abberline and Monro had gone white. Drake's eyes was full of the pain of betrayal. In his seat Jackson was staring murderously at Flight. Without a word Abberline handcuffed Detective Sergeant Flight to the chair.

"I do not blame anyone for failing to speak to Duggan's mistress. The evidence did not indication she was involved. Those responsible covered their tracks well," Monro said, his faced filled with anxiety.

"Captain Jackson, Sergeant Drake and Inspector Reid, you will visit the chemist to question and arrest Mr Hemlock."

"Of course Sir," Reid said, avoiding Flight's eyes.

"Chief Inspector Abberline you and I will remain here and question Detective Sergeant Flight further," Monro said, glaring murderously at Flight.

Standing up Reid, Drake and Jackson left the office, letting Sergeant Arthertone know that Chief Inspector Abberline and Commissioner Monro remained in the station.

Leaving the police station Reid, Drake and Jackson made their through the busy streets of Whitechapel under a downpour of rain and hail. They were already soaked and the further downpour chilled them to bone. Walking through the winding streets they soon arrived at the door of the chemists shop. In dark blue letters above the door was written Mr Yarrow. Walking inside they found all manner of jars filled with herbs, liquids and other products. At the desk stood a young man in his work clothes busily looking over supplies.

"Good afternoon gentlemen, how might I be off assistance?" the young man asked politely.

"We would like to speak to your master Mr Hemlock," Inspector Reid asked casually.

Almost instantly the demeanour of the young man changed, his eyes narrowed and his posture tensed and a wicked glint appeared in his eyes. From the side of the counter he picked up a small bell and rang it twice. A few seconds later a slim man with deep black hair streaked with grey appeared. He was dressed in smart working clothes, his apron streaked with unnamed substances and leather gloves on his hands.

"Good afternoon gentlemen I am Mr Hemlock, please come into the back where we can discuss your request in private."

Following Hemlock both men shared a covert look, Reid fingering his handcuffs, Drake slipping his hand around the knuckle duster in his pocket and Jackson placing his hand on the knife in his jacket. All three making sure their guns were secure. Following Hemlock into a large cellar they entered a laboratory full of jars, each bearing a skull and cross bones with a written label underneath.

"Gentlemen how might I assistance? A slow a painful, death that comes some hours after ingestion or quick acting with excruciating pain?"

"How did you know we seek poison without speaking to us?" Jackson asked in a smooth tone.

"By the fact you called me Hemlock, only those with nefarious purposes know that name. To respectable society I am Mr Yarrow."

"We have been told you supplied the poison that killed Silas Duggan, we'd like that," Jackson replied smiling.

"An excellent choice Sir. That was Oenanthe Crocata, Dead man's fingers being one of its common names. Convulsions and a quick death the choice of professional poisoners, I have the honour of being the man who supplied that poison, Mr Hemlock replied in a loving tone.

"That sounds perfect," Jackson said.

Before anyone knew what was happening Drake punched Hemlock square between the eyes. The blow sending him reeling to the floor. In an instant Reid had him handcuffed. Like mice the men climbed back up the ground floor. The shop was empty. Silently Jackson moved behind the boy at the counter. Raising his gun he pressed it against the boy's head.

"Move you die. Come quietly I'll let you live," Jackson said.

"Please Sir don't kill me," the boy whispered in a terrified voice.

Within a second Drake had the boy in irons. Together Drake, Reid and Jackson escorted Mr Hemlock and the boy Leman Street through the storm.

Arriving at the station the arrested men were flung into cells while Monro and Abberline stood watching. For a moment both men stood looking at the prisoners with eyes full of fury. Turning on his heal Monro walked back up the stairs with the others following in his wake. Once inside the privacy of Reid's office he turned to face the other men. Monro was pale and looked extremely worried. The five men were alone for Flight had vanished. Tension, fear and uncertainty hung in the air. Water dripping onto the floor from wet clothes.

"I have sent Flight to prison. While you were out I sent PC Perkins and Sergeant Arthertone to the house of Duggan's mistress. They are to enquire if any of the neighbours saw Flight being persuade. They have been told to report directly to myself at the Yard once they have completed their investigation," Monro began.

There was something in the strange, almost guilty look at both Monro and Abberlne had that suggest Flight had revealed more while the Leman Street trio were out. Flight had confessed the truth of how Maurice Linklater and Joseph Merrick died. Given the situation Monro was choosing to keep that information a secret least it provoke rash action.

"Chief Inspector Abberline, Inspector Ressler and the three of you will meet at Inspector Ressler's station house at nine o'clock tomorrow morning. There we will arrest Inspector Shine on suspicion of the murder of Silas Duggan. Roger Drake will be questioned thoroughly as to the same murder."

The words chilled the room, the silence defending as those assembled took in their meaning. Reid sat looking resolute with a slight feeling of pleasure that at last a man who he viewed a traitor would face justice. Bennet's face was set in stone giving no hint as to his inner turmoil. Jackson alone of the trio sat without emotion other than satisfaction the case was drawing to a successful conclusion.

"I will lead the questioning. There is a strategy I wish to play out. You must not intervene unless I invites you," Monro said, his voice cold and to the point, broking no argument.

Standing up the trio shook hands with Chief Inspector Abberline and Commissioner Monro as the two senior men left the station. For a moment the trio stood looking at one another, the events almost defied belief. Walking back into Reid's office they flopped down into chairs in exhaustion.

"What do we do now Inspector?" Drake asked, breaking the silence.

"Write up everything we know. Flight's actions run the risk of forewarning Shine or Roger of our suspicions. We have one chance, one slim chance. We hope both men are arrogant enough, believe they are secure enough in their positions that they think themselves untouchable," Reid replied rubbing his tired eyes.

"This is could all go wrong Reid. Sounds awful similar to the evidence we had my father in law on and he walked free. Shine's slithered out of trouble before," Jackson said lighting a cigarette.

"However slim the chance it is one we must take," Reid said, his eyes alight with fire.


	9. Reckoning of blue and blood

C9: Reckoning of blue and blood

On the steps of the police station in The City, Commissioner Monro, Chief Inspector Abberline, Inspector Ressler, Inspector Reid, Sergeant Drake and Captain Jackson stood together. It was bitterly cold. The grey sky above holding the promise of snow. The ground under their feet was slicked with ice. A bitter northerly wind was blowing. In the early winter morning the light was weak. The street were unusually quiet. Its shops not yet open for business, their owners just sorting out stock, arriving from home and welcoming delivery men. None of them paying mind the police, conducting their daily business in sight of Ressler's shop having made them used to their goings on.

Along the street Roger Drake was walking towards them. Roger was dressed smartly in a warm black coat, gloves and hat and carrying black leather briefcase. He seemed utterly at ease without a hint of worry on his face.

Coming from the opposite end of the street was Inspector Shine. Shine was dressed warmly in a long red coat. Under his arm was The Star. Shine seemed relaxed yet his eyes betrayed just a hint of concern. Catching sight of the group on the steps his demeanour changed to one of apprehension.

By now Roger had reached the station steps and was just greeting the assembled policemen. At the same time Inspector Shine stepped off the pavement. For a moment Shine and Roger Drake looking at one another. For a mere second the briefest signs of recognition passed between them. As Shine's foot touched the road there was a mighty bang, a bullet hitting his right shoulder. Seconds later a second glanced passed his left cheek. In a blaze of pain Shine fell forwards onto the road, hitting the grey surface hard.

In the middle of pavement stood young Mr Keaton. His eyes were wild, bloodshot, full of despair, anguish and rage. His clothes were dishevelled, his green shirt rumpled and stained with drink, his waistcoat missing buttons, black tie slung careless around his neck and trousers steaked with dirt. In his hand was a gun. Running forward he shot randomly at the policemen causing them and Roger Drake to run for cover of the station and shop doorways.

In the midst of the bullets Shine pushed himself to his knees, fighting the agony of the shoulder wound. In that moment Shine realized that fate that had befallen him. Seeing Roger and Bennet Drake running across the road for the cover of the shops Shine's eyes blazed with rage. With a shaking right hand he began firing his gun at Roger Drake. Hampered by injury Shine's bullets went wide, one hitting Sergeant Drake in the leg and sending him to the floor, his head hitting the pavement edge. Besides him Roger yelled his brother's name, falling down beside him. Half unconscious Drake lay helpless in his brother's arm. For a moment Inspector Shine and Roger Drake looked at one another. Shine's eyes wide with surprise, anger and just a touch of fear.

"I'll kill you," Shine hissed, aiming his gun at Roger Drake.

For a moment there was standstill between the two men. Ice slipping down Shine's back, a look of horror appearing on his face as he realized just what was happening. In that moment Keaton open fire on Shine. Bullets zipping through the air, striking Shine's back, one perforating his heart, killing him instantly.

Standing in the road Keaton's wild eyes were staring at the body of Shine. From the station and shop doorways Monro, Abberline, Ressler, Reid and Jackson stood silently. No one dare move, barely able to believe what they had just witnessed.

"Place the gun down kid. No one is going to hurt you," Jackson said, slowly taking a step forward from a bookshop doorway.

"He's a friend of Silas Duggan. He planned Father's murder. He deserved it. I had too, he was a policeman and you'd have never charged him!" Keaton said, his voice full of hatred.

"Who told you Shine was involved in your father murder? You put that gun down kid we'll talk."

"I know the truth about Jedidiah Shine! YOU STAY BACK!" Keaton yelled, aiming his gun at Jackson only to find his bullets spent.

Stopping where he was standing Jackson's heart was beating frantically, for the first time in ever afraid for his own life. Panicking now Keaton began fumbling in his pockets for bullets, loading them with trembling hands causing them to drop to the floor. As he did so Sergeant Archer fired, the bullet finding its mark and hitting Keaton's head. Leaning out of the upper window of the station house Sergeant Archer had been watching proceedings. His face was grim and full of regret. Gasping for breath Jackson raced over to where Sergeant Drake lay bleeding.

"Steady Sergeant. Roger help me get him inside," Jackson yelled kneeling down.

"I've got you Ben, come on lean on me," Roger said anxiously.

Together Jackson and Roger carried Bennet inside the station house, the police surgeon leading them to his room. Inside the lab Jackson and Roget sat Bennet down on a chair. With practice ease Jackson began the delicate process of treating his friend.

"Roger," Bennet gasped, gripping his brother's hand tightly.

"I've got you Benny," Roger said, his eyes full of murderous anger.

Outside Monro, Abberline, Ressler and Reid stood looking over the scene. Shine and Keaton both lay dead. Spent bullets casings and stray bullets littering the floor. It was the early hour that had prevented further casualties, another hour and the street would have been full of people. Blood was pooling around the two dead men, turning the icy streets red. There was an eerie silence that seemed to suffocate the street.

Under a soft fall of snow the bodies were cleared away. Sergeant Archer giving testimony to Commissioner Monro who was praising his quick thinking. Sergeant Bennet Drake was being helped into a smart carriage by Roger. On Jackson's orders Bennet was to go home and remain off until his injuries had healed. Bennet would spent his recovery time at Roger's house in the City. Roger had been insistent on that point and Bennet had been more than happy to comply.

"Today was a tragic incident that could not be prevented. Mr Drake do you have any idea why Inspector Shine would shoot at you?" Monro asked carefully.

"I had never met the man until today. It was shocking to find a gun aimed at myself and to see my brother shot. The matter as to why I was summoned here….?" Roger asked in a silky tone.

"You have my word Mr Drake that matter is closed," Monro said heavily.

"My thanks Commissioner. After all I have proved my whereabouts the night Mr Duggan was murdered. I trust you to keep the fanciful theories of Inspector Ressler in check. I am a friend to you, remember Commissioner Monro just who my friends are," Roger said with an enigmatic smile.

Nodding to the policemen Roger climbed into carriage. With a gentle clop of the horse's hooves the carriage set off through the snowy streets. Gathering in Ressler's office Monro, Abberline, Reid and Jackson sat nursing a cup of strong coffee apiece. All were exhausted. The room was silent as its occupants tried to come to terms with that had happened that day.

"I am closing this case. Detective Sergeant Flight and Mr Hemlock will be charged with the murder of Silas Duggan.

All our evidence and Flight's confession nigh on prove Inspector Shine arranged Duggan's murder. However have not spoken to Inspector Shine himself I cannot risk charging him. The man is dead let it end there," Monro said heavily looking at his men.

The look in Monro's eyes showed he knew full well the conflict between Reid and Shine. There was a severity to it that send a shiver of fear down Reid's spine, a fear for his professional future if he were to push the matter further.

"Edmund dead men don't talk. You Shine guilty. Had he been alive he would have faced justice. Let it end here," Abberline said firmly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Looking at his old friend Reid felt the weight of the words on him. Fred had never once let him down despite their difference in rank. Reid too saw the reality and practical sense in the spoken words, understanding Monro's reluctance at conforming Shine's guilt. As much as Reid might disagree the costs of rebelling against his superior might just be too high. All had acknowledged Inspector Shine's guilt, Reid's own actions against him were at last vindicated.

"I will not speak a word against Inspector Shine," Reid replied.

Looking at him Monro extended his hand. Shaking hands both exchanged a look of mutual understanding and respect.

"I have seen Sergeant Arthertone's report as to his investigation at the house of Duggan's mistress Indira. Witnesses confirm seeing Flight being pursued by Sergeant Mason. No evidence could be found that she plotted Duggan's murder. No picture of her could be found. Neighbours confirm seeing Indira climb into a carriage with a child the night after Duggan was murdered. They have not seen her since," Monro said gravely, drawing out a report from a briefcase at his feet.

"Some has cleaned the house thoroughly. That's the second time in this case, someone knows how to avoid detection," Jackson replied cynically.

"Inspector Reid, Captain Jackson full credit will be given to H Division for solving the murder of Silas Duggan. The case is closed. You are not to pursue the mistress of Silas Duggan. Our evidence of her involvement hinges on the confession of a known criminal. I admit the situation leaves me ill at ease but there is little choice. Indira could well deny all charges and jury could well decide in her favour. I am sorry Inspector Reid but to in light of what this case has brought to light I cannot risk that," Monro said, his voice full of unease

"I trust you mean in relation to Roger Drake and Mr Osbert Junior?" Reid asked curiously, raising an eyebrow.

"Precisely Reid. That black book of Duggan's has serious implications for both The City and Metropolitan Police."

"I swear not to investigate Duggan's mistress," Reid replied, accepting the judgment uneasily yet knowing there was no other option.

"Chief Inspector Abberline, I am placing you in of K Division. Assisted by officers from the Yard you will clean the shop from top to bottom," Monro said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"It will be pleasure Commissioner," Abberline replied sternly, rubbing his hands.

The temperature on the room was still icy cold. The weight of Monro's words pressing down on all of them. It was not a happy outcome yet Monro's word was law and all recognised the sense in them. It was easy enough for people to change their names, given the time that had passed Indira could be half a world away.

"Inspector Ressler for now you are to keep an eye on Roger Drake from a distance. Mr Richardson was the name provided by Flight, we cannot prove Drake and Richardson are the same man. There is no evince the men in his employment who killed Duggan's men acted on his orders. I would see him caught Sydney but we must be cautious," Monro implored, gripping Ressler's shoulder.

"James…I will do as you ask though it sits ill with me," Ressler replied, his face full of molten anger at being so close but having the chance slip from through his figures.

"Sydney the deaths of Duggan and Shine leaves a power vacuum. As Limehouse is cleaned things might emerge. Duggan's properties are to be monitored from afar, let us see what Mr Grosvenor does with his inheritance of Obsidian Estates. If we hold our nerve, act with caution then my friend then fate might deliver us our men."

Sitting there all shared a look of understanding. There remain the mystery of just who Mr Richardson was. The actions of Keaton had prevented Inspector Shine being questioned as to why his men were at The Drunken Monk that night. It had also derailed their plan for questioning Roger Drake. How Keaton had known Shine would be in The City was also a mystery. It seemed to all that a much bigger game was being played, by man far clever and ruthless than Duggan and with more knowledge than the police.


	10. The Barber's end

The Barber's End

On a cold rainy day in a non-descript cemetery a small collection of men gathered for the funeral of Silas Duggan. The men were all professional business associates who had come to show respect. Among them Roger Drake, Mr Grosvenor who was leaning on a cane topped with a golden tiger's head with red eyes and Ronald Capshaw. There were a few words spoken but nothing of any great sentiment. They mourned the man only as it meant they had lost a valuable business partner and a person who did all their dirty work. The strangeness of the funeral was that no family were present. Within half an hour Silas Duggan had been buried. After the grave had been closed people left the cemetery in ones and two.

At the British Museum, Bennet and Bella Drake were touring an exhibition on the history of Ancient Egypt. Utterly carefree they were simply enjoying each other's company. Bennet reminiscing about the wonders he had seen, all that he had learnt and the wonder of Egypt. Sitting down on benches they listened to an archaeologist explain the significance of the finds, about the mighty empire Egypt once had and the majesty of the pharaohs. Sitting together Bennet and Bella linked hands utterly without a care in the world.

In his office in Whitechapel Fred Best was looking smugly at the day's edition of The Star. The front page devoted to the conviction of Mr Hemlock and Albert Flight for the murder of Silas Duggan. Spice was added to the story from Flight's testimony in the witness box that he had committed the murder on the orders of Inspector Jedidiah Shine. That fact made Best smile with curiosity as no mention of Jedidiah Shine had been made in the official police testimony. He had personally heard the gossip swimming around Shine's death.

"Well well Commissioner what really happened in this case? I wonder what secrets you hide. I will let you keep them. Why was Roger Drake at the police station? The brother of a police sergeant, who could blame you for wanting to keep the truth hidden," Best mused leaning back in his chair.

At Tenter Street Jackson and Susan sat together on the window seat looking out at the snow filled night sky. They had eyes only for the other and their figures were intertwined. Jackson's left hand was gently laid on the soft swelling of Susan's stomach. Susan's hand was laid besides his. They had never been happier and now looked forward to the future.

Out of a web of darkness had emerged a world of light. Silas Duggan and Inspector Shine were dead, life forever changed but all had foot on the path towards diamonds, family and a train station. For there are always other paths but some events are fixed even if different choices can alter how they play out.

End


End file.
